Startank
by Rick Blackwell
Summary: This story comes off on Fri. Almost none of those who read it read the whole thing. 50 people have looked at this story and 1 review? Bah! If you think my story sucked then TELL ME! If you don't then TELL ME! I'm not wasting any more time without feedback
1. Prologue: The Presentation

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_**Prologue:**_

_**The Presentation**_

As the stage lights came up and the house lights dimmed, the murmuring from the crowd that had gathered in the lecture hall gradually faded until all was silent. The stage lights also dimmed, then, and the spotlight picked out the podium, at which was standing a man of about thirty-five or forty years. The man's khaki green uniform, bedecked with medals that glinted in the glare of the spotlight, outlined his fit and lean body, but seemed out of place amid the reds, yellows and blues of the Starfleet officers sitting on chairs behind him. He activated a control on the podium's face and the huge screen behind him activated. It read:

**S.P.E.D.A.R.**

(**S**TARFLEET **PE**RSONAL **D**EFENSIVE **AR**MOR)

A Proposal from:

_**THE STARTANK CONSORTIUM:**_

_Research and Development Division_

The man began to speak in measured tones, looking out at the crowd as if trying to gauge their reaction to his speech. "Thank you all for coming. I'm J.T. Garren and I'd like to talk a little today about the safety of Starfleet personnel. The primary purpose of Starfleet is the exploration of space. To this end, Starfleet deploys beings of many races around the edges of known space in starships. These starships are outfitted with the most advanced equipment the Federation has to offer." The screen showed a series starships, followed by a series of still shots of different species that Starfleet had encountered.

"In the pursuit of their endeavors, the crews of these starships are put at considerable personal risk quite often. Away teams are routinely called upon to enter situations that are unknown and potentially hazardous, outfitted with only the barest minimum of equipment. The Consortium feels that this is very poor judgment on the part of Starfleet."

The display switched to views of starships in combat, firing phasers and torpedoes, ovoid shields flaring as disruptor blasts coruscated along their perimeter. "The secondary purpose of Starfleet is the defence of the Federation. To this end, Starfleet again deploys beings in advanced starships with powerful weapons. This scenario poses an even greater threat to the life and limb of Starfleet personnel.

"The focus of Starfleet Command seems to have been on the ships and not on the personnel aboard them. They have failed to realize that the _technology_ should serve the _personnel_ and not the other way around. They have concentrated too much on protecting the ships and not enough on protecting the crew.

Different computer systems and tools now appeared on the screen. Followed by recordings of Starfleet cadets in classes and simulations. As the man continued with his speech, the display continued to change with alternating moving and still images, graphs and database information to accentuate his points. "Starfleet's greatest asset is not its technology, although that is formidable. Its greatest asset is its people. How they _use_ that technology is what makes all the difference. Starfleet is not using its greatest asset to its full potential. Starfleet personnel are not being _taught_ to utilize their technology to its greatest potential.

"Starfleet personnel are very well trained, motivated, highly intelligent, educated and, moreover, _very_ expensive. It would be extremely poor management of resources to allow such valuable field assets to be lost in preventable accidents. Something as simple as a physical safety harness built into the seat of each duty station would not only protect the person manning the station but it would also keep the person _at_ the station in the event of a collision, malfunction or other event which causes the ship to oscillate unexpectedly. In addition, all duty stations should be staffed in the seated position, rather than the standing position, this change alone would significantly reduce casualties. Inertial dampeners are great but they only function as long as their power source functions.

"Countless Starfleet personnel are lost on away missions because they are improperly protected against physical injury. Utilizing an advanced A.I. computer, such as those found aboard Galaxy class starships and later designs, combined with the most advanced holographic technology, our research team has developed a system that will completely support an individual indefinitely in almost any situation. This system is called S.P.E.D.A.R.: **S**tarfleet **PE**rsonal **D**efensive **AR**mor.

"In our engagements with the Borg, one of the most formidable enemies the federation has ever come up against, we have learned that their single greatest asset is their ability to adapt. Adaptability is the key to the S.P.E.D.A.R. system. By using a combination of many different systems, which can operate independently or interactively as the situation demands, its flexibility makes it uniquely functional in many different circumstances. The system's modular design allows for multiple configurations that allow the individual to tailor it to the specific requirements of the mission. Configurations can range from routine away missions, with little more equipment than is standard issue now, to full-scale ground assault with high-energy weapons and tactical analytical software.

"S.P.E.D.A.R. takes advantage of cutting edge technology in several fields: Micro-Replication, Micro-Tractor/Repulsor beams, Force fields, Anti-gravity, Holo-Imaging, A.I. software, materials research and weapons technology. While some of these technologies have been around for a very long time, S.P.E.D.A.R. is the first time that all of them have been integrated in a single package. A package that is flexible enough to be used in many different situations. The system is complex enough to be useful in those situations but simple enough that the user does not become overloaded with too much information to _act_ in a given situation.

"The first problem is the Starfleet uniform. Every planet that an away team beams down to has its own unique set of environmental conditions. The terrain can vary significantly on just one part of a planet. Everything from mountains and deserts to jungles and swamps are routinely encountered on unexplored worlds. Weather conditions can vary from extreme heat to extreme cold just between day and night. Torrential rains can become blinding blizzards in a matter of hours. I, personally, would not want to be caught in a blizzard wearing nothing but a shipsuit.

"The standard uniform simply does not cut it in harsh environments. The Starfleet manual says, "The Starfleet uniform is designed for optimum comfort in all environments." Upon review of countless Starfleet mission logs, we find this statement to be in error. The materials from which they are made are flimsy and tear easily. They do not offer protection from impacts, scrapes, cuts, heat, cold or even water. While on board ship, the standard one-, or two-piece shipsuit makes sense. Protection from the environment is not necessary when the environment is computer controlled for optimum comfort. Away missions, however, are a different story. Extravehicular uniforms, at their barest minimum, should be task specific and made from durable materials, with footwear suited to the terrain that is likely to be encountered. One would not wear snow boots to go walking through the desert. By the same token, ship shoes would not be of much use when slogging through a swamp with a fallen comrade on your back. No two away missions are alike, just ask any Starfleet officer, so the uniforms for each mission should not be alike either. Some situations may call for the use of water repellent materials, while other situations may warrant the use of camouflage patterns or even lightweight armor.

"The S.P.E.D.A.R. uniform has built-in thermal transfer micro-coils for heating and cooling, as well as 100 resistance to water in its liquid form -- even when completely submerged -- while allowing water _vapor_ to pass freely, for example: sweat. This alone makes it superior to the standard uniform in hotter environments. It is also equipped with optional, embedded armor. It can, of course, be whatever color the mission requires including, obviously, standard Starfleet colors. Models that are more specialized can incorporate exo-skeletal support structures to augment physical strength and speed.

"The next problem is defence. Personal force fields have been in use for decades. These should be standard issue for all Starfleet personnel, who should be required to wear them at all times, while on duty. The rule should be, "If the ship's shields are up, then the crew's shields should be up as well." Even on board ship, hazards can be sudden and unexpected. A hull breach will blow all personnel in the affected area into space. If they are wearing a personal force field, they can activate it in time to save themselves from explosive decompression and live long enough to be picked up after the emergency is finished. If they are using S.P.E.D.A.R., the force field is activated automatically, as soon as the threat is detected. A ruptured plasma conduit is also a very real danger in conflict situations or emergency maneuvers. A force field would keep plasma discharges, toxic elements and other hazards from impairing the ability of personnel to perform their duties by keeping them safe from physical harm.

"If the ship were boarded by intruders then the force fields would be excellent protection against their weapons, making it that much more difficult to take the ship.

"Using our system, whenever an energy weapon hits the force field, S.P.E.D.A.R.'s on-board computer continuously analyses the energy signature of the radiation and adjusts the frequency, amplitude and modulation of the field to give the best protection. It will also modify the size and shape of the field to maximize heat dissipation. The force field's default setting is one millimeter from the skin or clothing with which it is most closely in contact, making it possible to manipulate objects and controls while the force field is activated. In case of contact with itself (such as the user's fingers manipulating controls on their arm-mounted P.A.D.D.), the two areas of the field in contact merge, forming one contiguous shape surrounding the two objects within the field.

"In addition to a personal force field, ablative armor, made from new, lightweight ceramics designed by our R&D teams, can be embedded in the uniform to increase protection in the event of a force field failure.

"Mobility can be a major issue in some scenarios. Anti-grav units have also been in use for decades. Our R&D teams found it easy to adapt them for personal use without the need for bulky boots. A simple device attached to the belt provides more than sufficient mobility for any person and it can easily support the weight of another individual as well as the user. Personal gravity control negates the necessity to walk, run, swim or climb in any type of terrain. It also allows the user to nullify the weight of the equipment that he is carrying and to adjust personal gravity to standard in high- or low-G environments.

"In flight mode, the anti-gravity unit manipulates gravitic fields to allow the user to fly as long as he is within a gravity-well. It is necessary to be within a gravity-well because the unit uses the force of the gravitational field as a 'base' to push against. By angling the graviton flow, relative to the central locus of the gravitational field in which it is located, the unit can effect movement in any direction. Flight parameters can be voice activated or adjusted, in-flight, manually on an arm mounted P.A.D.D. or via our '**P**ositional **O**rientation by **I**ntuitive **N**avigational **T**racking', or, P.O.I.N.T. flight control system. The user simply extends, or, "points" their hand in the direction he/she wishes to travel and the computer interprets his/her hand movements as flight commands. Either hand can be designated as the "Joystick" hand. The "Joystick" hand controls the direction of travel, while the opposite hand controls acceleration. The interface is similar to the old-style manual flight controls, but without the physical handgrips. Inertial dampeners allow for high acceleration or high G evasive maneuvers.

"Although the anti-grav flight system incorporated into the S.P.E.D.A.R. system is outstanding in its performance, it is not always possible to fly to your destination. In some cases there is no access from your current position, in others it might not be wise to allow those around you to know that you possess the capability of flight. Situations like these and others have prompted us to include a site-to-site transporter system in the S.P.E.D.A.R. matrix. If access is denied to a certain objective by more conventional means, the transporter can be used to gain the required access. However, the small size of the unit limits its capacity and range. Since it requires more power to transport more mass, the distance is reduced proportionately to the mass transported. Thus, the unit can transport one humanoid of average size and weight a distance of approximately five kilometers, or two humanoids approximately half that distance, and so on.

"The energy requirements of the unit are quite high. Typically, the unit can be used only two to four times, depending on distance and mass transported, before recharging is required. Because of its energy requirements, we were not initially planning to incorporate the transporter into the system but we decided that the potential benefits of an on-board transporter in times of emergency outweighed the power drain on the system.

"Many situations, such as emergencies, rescue or combat, to name just a few, may require physical strength or brute force that is beyond the capacity of most humanoids. Recent advances in tractor beam technology now make it feasible to equip Starfleet personnel with hand-held or integral arm-mounted micro-tractor beams. These micro-tractors are capable of lifting over one thousand kilograms, or applying the same force laterally (To open jammed bulkhead doors for instance).

"In addition, by setting the unit to affect objects; the user can use the micro-tractor to bring objects to him or, by setting the unit to affect himself, he can manoeuvre in a zero G environment.

"Many times a mission has been aborted or has failed outright because the away team lacked a simple tool that would accomplish a simple task. Expanding on systems designed by Dr. Khyra Farallon, for use with EXO-COMPS, portable micro-replicators that are small enough to be hand-held or arm-mounted can be programmed to replicate hundreds of useful tools. Anything from a coil spanner or a flux coupler to a knife or a lock pick can be replicated. It can also be programmed to replicate emergency rations, water, medicine and medical tools, or even breathable air.

"In addition, these replicators have the capacity to cannibalize replication mass from elements in the surrounding environment to supplement their own, on board, replication mass. Thus, theoretically, they could replicate nearly unlimited supplies, as long as their power lasted.

"If the sensors detect a hazardous environment, such as hard vacuum, smoke or toxic vapor, the force field activates and the replicator immediately begins converting exhaled CO2 into breathable air. The oxygen is recirculated and the carbon is stored as supplemental replication mass. Our tests have shown that using the replicator in addition to a standard self-contained breathing apparatus can effectively multiply the amount of breathable air by a factor of ten. However, due to the fact that air supply must be continuously maintained, when in atmosphere recycling mode, the replicator cannot be used for any other purpose. A second, independent air-recycling unit will be incorporated in the next design phase.

"The replicator can, in some instances, be used to make repairs on the equipment being carried by the user. For instance, if the user's phaser unit is damaged, the replicator can access its database of all the equipment the user has selected for the mission and then replicate a new one, using the cannibalized mass of the old unit supplemented with its own on-board replication mass

"In situations where subterfuge is necessary, and the complete S.P.E.D.A.R. system cannot be utilized, we recommend that only the portable micro-replicator be taken on the mission. This one tool can produce a phaser, a tricorder, local currency or whatever other tools might be necessary to accomplish the mission. In effect, it is 'A thousand tools in one'. (Actually, the possibilities are far greater in number) In field tests, the replicator has proven so useful that we strongly urge Starfleet to make it a standard-issue field tool.

"Sensor technology has also advanced in past years. Beginning with standard V.I.S.O.R. technology, our group has developed a simple, lightweight, head-mounted sensor package that significantly improves visual and aural capability. Scanning is three dimensional in 360 degrees and includes the entire EM spectrum and sub-space with telephoto and micro-scan in the visual range of the EM spectrum. All standard tricorder functions, including bio-med functions, are built into the sensor system.

"Digital overlays and all status displays can be projected directly onto the retina through our patented Retinal Laser Projection Display (R.L.P.D.) system or through cybernetic implants. Real-time 3D imaging allows control interfaces to be placed mid-air around the user, if desired, visible only to him. Aural sensors vastly improve hearing while a threshold buffering system prevents loud sounds from deafening the user. Aural information is transmitted to micro-earphones or again, through cybernetic implants.

"In addition, while it is active, the sensor array continuously monitors the user's physical condition and surrounding environment and updates him of significant changes. All sensor data can be routed through the wide-band subspace transceiver array and transmitted to any receiver in range. This would allow command officers to see and hear everything that the user sees and hears as well as keep an eye on the status of all personnel on the mission. For security reasons, this feature cannot be activated by anyone except the user without command-code clearance.

"In light of Starfleet's contact with the Borg and other highly aggressive and technologically advanced species, we deemed that modification of Starfleet weapons systems was absolutely necessary. S.P.E.D.A.R.'s on-board weapons control systems can accommodate everything from standard issue hand-phasers to high-energy phaser cannon, capable of destroying a shuttlecraft in a single blast (If its shields are down). Any configuration is possible, depending on the situation. Obviously, phaser cannon would not be appropriate for a routine rescue aboard a space station, but would be appropriate for a full-scale assault on a Dominion entrenchment on a hostile planet.

"We have re-tooled the standard Mk. III hand phaser so that it can be mounted on the outer forearm, with the trigger linked to sensor pads on the palm of the hand. We call this adaptation the Mk. VI. and we recommend it as the main weapon platform for maximum delivery of firepower in the smallest package .The Mk. VI is a hyper-velocity regenerative phaser that has been modified so that it does not always fire a single collimated beam. Instead, when set on maximum, it fires high-energy pulses that are much more intense than a normal phaser beam. The pulses are computer-controlled so that the temperature of the impeller coil has time to decrease before the next pulse begins. Because the pulses are very short, (they are measured in milliseconds) the amplification crystal does not have time to overheat and burn out before the pulse ends. The combined intensity of the phaser pulses is approximately twice the intensity of a Mk. III hand phaser set on level 16.

"The MK. VI also automatically randomizes the frequency of the beam or the pulses so that it never fires at the same frequency twice. By varying the meson and lepton flux in the firing chamber at the quantum level, almost infinite settings can be achieved. By using the covariant value of the meson and lepton flux itself as the randomizing factor, there can be no pattern to the randomization and the next frequency can never be predicted. This is possible because every time the flux is changed, a new value for the covariant is generated. Quantum Theory dictates that the value of the covariant can never be the same value twice in the same continuum, giving an infinite set. Since the next frequency used by the phaser is based on the value of the covariant, it can also never be the same and therefore can never be predicted.

"The Mk. XII phaser cannon is shoulder mounted and fired either by voice command or manual control. Servos in the base of the unit continuously align the Mk. XII with the targeting reticle on the user's display. The targeting reticle can be set to follow the movement of the user's eyes so that the user can aim and fire by simply looking at the target and giving the computer the command to fire. It can also be set to follow a targeting laser or be given a target designation verbally or from another computer. The MK. XII also uses the Quantum Randomizing System so its discharges also cannot be predicted.

"A Mk. LXXXII photon grenade launcher can be shoulder mounted and aimed & fired in the same manner as the Phaser cannon or arm mounted and aimed & fired manually. (We recommend the former.) Being a projectile launcher, the MK. LXXXII can be configured to fire a variety of ammunition besides photon grenades. It can also fire concussion grenades, flash grenades, smoke, tear gas, even non-lethal stunner grenades (Useful, for instance, in crowd pacification).

"The highly diversified ammunition for the MK. LXXXII is supplied by a secondary, integral micro-replication system. The specialized replication mass, consisting of base elements used in the manufacture of explosives and casings as well as a quantity of anti-matter, is stored in cartridges, which can be individually loaded and ejected from the weapon like magazines. Each cartridge contains enough mass to replicate up to twenty rounds of varying types of ammunition and enough antimatter to replicate ten photon grenades.

The user simply selects the desired ammunition from a list on the weapon's readout on his display or gives the command verbally and that ammunition is continuously replicated directly in the firing chamber until the selection is changed or the cartridge runs out of mass.

"Although these should be all the weapons anyone would need, the system is adaptable to almost any weapon designed to be carried by a humanoid. All weapons systems are computer linked and, given enough lead-time, tactical displays can show targeting information and damage assessment for each weapon before firing.

"The Starfleet uniform is highly visible and very recognizable. This is deliberate; The Federation wants its citizens to be able to recognize their protectors easily. But let's face it; not everybody feels that Starfleet is their ally. Sometimes it is better if the beings by which you are surrounded don't know that you're Starfleet. Even if they don't recognize the uniform, there is no mistaking that black and red or black and gold target walking through the woods.

"The Holo-Imaging Camouflage System (H.I.C.S.) is a state of the art system that is designed for camouflage and evasion. When the H.I.C.S. stealth mode is activated, the on-board sensors continuously scan the surrounding terrain for colors and patterns. Using a holographic matrix, which is woven into the uniform, the system projects those patterns around the user in such a way that, seen from any angle, whatever is behind the user is projected in front of him and vice-versa. This renders him virtually invisible in the visual spectrum. Unlike similar holographic camouflage systems, such as those used in "Duck Blind" observations of pre-warp species, the H.I.C.S. system is completely self-contained and is therefore not reliant on an external power source or projector.

"The thermal suppression system can also be used to make him nearly undetectable in the infrared spectrum as well. It is not a cloaking device (The power required for an actual cloak is too great to feasibly integrate it into the S.P.E.D.A.R. system.) but it is similar in function. NOTE: The H.I.C.S. system, not being a true cloak, is only functional in the visible and infrared wavelengths of the EM spectrum. Subspace scans and certain molecular-displacement motion detectors will reveal the presence of the user. Also, if the user is too noisy the results are obvious. It should also be noted that the thermal suppression system uses the thermal transfer coils in the uniform to retain the heat generated by the user's body and heat build-up can be very rapid. It is therefore recommended that the user be taught not to rely too heavily on the protection of the H.I.C.S. system. There is no substitute for true cover.

"The H.I.C.S. system can also be used to alter the outward appearance of the user. While in full S.P.E.D.A.R. armor, the user can appear to be in a standard Starfleet uniform or anything else he/she wishes. It can even alter the appearance of the user's facial features so he/she can appear to be Human, Vulcan or any other humanoid race of similar general size and shape. This would reduce the necessity for time consuming and possibly dangerous surgery to alter the user's physical features to better blend in with the local inhabitants of an unexplored world. This kind of disguise will not fool a tricorder or other scanning device but it will fool the naked eye.

"The S.P.E.D.A.R. system takes all these advances and integrates them into one efficient, adaptable package, controlled by an on-board Advanced Tactical Interface Computer, (A.T.I.C.). The A.T.I.C. system-management software uses input from the sensors and the user to automatically configure key functions and displays.

"Tactical threat-recognition software, based on holodeck safety protocols is part of the A.T.I.C. system. Unless the user disables the threat system, the computer will automatically scan the surrounding area for possible threats. It will then assign these threats priority values, based upon how immediate the threats are. Finally, the computer will notify the user of important information such as possible targets, environmental hazards or incoming communications. In some cases, the computer will automatically activate or adjust personal and defensive systems without notification, if the threat priority is high enough, to protect the user from unseen or unknown hazards. (For example, if gravitational systems on board ship fail, the A.T.I.C. computer will automatically activate the user's personal gravitational controls and set them to one standard G, or any other setting the user desires.) Because of its ability to act independently it relieves the user of the burden of control and allows him to respond to the situation instead of responding to controls and displays. All systems can be operated either through voice interface or, if the situation requires stealth, either through manual input on a standard hand-held or arm mounted P.A.D.D., or through eye-blinks on the user's visual display.

"All of S.P.E.D.A.R.'s tactical and control system hardware is designed to be ergonomically mounted directly on the user's body for hands free use. Hardware and software are dynamically sealed against E.M.P. and subspace jamming.

"Communications systems can vary greatly but it is highly recommended that implantation of subdermal communicators become standard procedure for all Starfleet personnel. This would considerably reduce the possibility of losing one's communicator or having it taken from him/her. The transceiver could be implanted in a tooth and activated/deactivated by a simple double-bite in quick succession.

"The A.T.I.C. system has a built-in Universal Translator and is set by default to automatically link via subspace transceiver to the largest database in its range. Once this is accomplished, the user can easily access any unsecured data in the remote database through his display. If necessary, decryption algorithms built into the A.T.I.C. system can decrypt most secured databases. For security reasons, the A.T.I.C. system is designed to leave a very distinct footprint' on Starfleet databases and any unauthorized access to restricted systems will have to be justified to superior officers. Independent, dynamically adaptive security and anti-virus software is hard-wired into the system preventing virtually any foreign incursions without proper authorization.

"The S.P.E.D.A.R.'s power system is unique. Again, adaptability is key. Away missions and tactical operations can sometimes last for weeks or even months. Powered armor is not much use without power and bringing enough power cells to last that long would be inefficient and would create a logistics nightmare. To counteract this, S.P.E.D.A.R.'s power system is specially designed so that it can be recharged from virtually any source of energy. Whenever the system's power becomes low enough, the automatic solar recharger is activated. Solar cells built into the uniform's material begin collecting available light and transforming it into energy that can be utilized by the S.P.E.D.A.R. power system. It can also be recharged from a standard power outlet, a plasma conduit, a source of electrical energy (including lightning) or any thermal source (even, as a last resort, body heat). (We are currently working on a way to use the energy from incoming weapons fire such as a phaser or disrupter to power the on-board force field. Theoretically, this would make the force field nearly impervious to any energy weapon. The more powerful the weapon fired at the field, the more powerful the field becomes. We are still working on this modification and will implement it as soon as its development is complete.)

"Recharge time varies depending on the amount of available energy, (to fully recharge the unit using only body heat would take about two weeks with zero usage) but average recharge time from a standard power source is approximately one hour. The unit can, of course, be fully powered up in seconds by simply replacing the power packs, but, obviously, this is not always possible in the field. A full charge will last between forty-eight hours and eight standard days, depending on usage, before recharge is required. Each of the S.P.E.D.A.R. adapted sub-system modules such as weapons and gravitics come, standard, with their own independent power source. Thus, once integrated with the system they draw power from it only when their own power cells are depleted. This allows the main power packs to last that much longer before recharge becomes necessary.

"Most of the developments used in S.P.E.D.A.R. are already in use or are improvements on existing technology. This makes it easy to implement the system because it does not require a long training period to become accustomed to the equipment, and the cost would not be prohibitive. What _is_ new is that this is the first time that all these systems have been integrated into one complete package designed with intuitive controls for ease of use. The entire package includes uniform, armor, weapons, defensive systems, including the holo-imaging array and force fields, gravitic control, tractor-beam, replicator, transporter and computer system, all in one harmonized unit. Depending on the configuration used, the main hardware and power packs for the system can be worn as a belt or a backpack. The weight of the belt or backpack, of course, would be negated by the gravitic systems, if they were used.

"One of the most important features of the S.P.E.D.A.R. system is that it normally does not require maintenance. The entire pattern is embedded in a program that can be stored on any computer. The user simply has to access the program from his terminal and tailor the system to the needs of the current mission and his own physical parameters. The pattern can then simply be replicated on any standard replicator terminal, whole or piece-by-piece. The program saves the patterns and user dimensions automatically when the armor is first replicated so once the mission is over, the user can simply put the uniform into the recycling unit. In the field, maintenance can be performed easily by utilizing the replicator system. If the replicator is damaged and the user must repair the unit manually, full specifications and diagrams of the complete system are downloaded to the computer when the armor is replicated and are available in the on-board database.

"It must be emphasized that NO Borg technology has been used in the design or construction of the S.P.E.D.A.R. system. It was designed and constructed using ONLY Federation technology.

"The Consortium realizes that Starfleet is not -- nor does it wish to become -- a primarily military operation. Its primary mission is to explore space and seek out new civilizations. The Federation would like to coexist peacefully with them, but we must all face the fact that this is not always possible. Despite its desire to the contrary, the Federation will always have adversaries. Some of these adversaries will be at least as technologically advanced as we are. Some will be more advanced. Some will be peaceful and some will be aggressive.

"Diplomacy is always the preferred method for resolving differences but when diplomacy breaks down, armed conflict is sometimes the only option. Contact with civilizations such as the Borg, the Dominion and the Breen, which between them cost not only hundreds of ships but also millions of lives, have shown that a higher emphasis on the military capability of Starfleet is essential. The Federation, through Starfleet, must be prepared to not only _wage_ war, but to _win_ it. Lives lost in conflicts with species such as the Borg, the Dominion and the Breen are not only lost in space but in countless ground battles. Starfleet must not only increase the tactical and defensive capabilities of its ships, it must increase the ability of its personnel to defend themselves and withstand physical attack or injury on a personal basis.

"Whether in conflict situations or on routine away missions, we sincerely believe that implementing the S.P.E.D.A.R. system on a large scale would significantly reduce the number of needless casualties among Starfleet personnel.

"The implementation of this system on a limited basis within the ranks of the Starfleet Marine Corps, to date, has significantly reduced the number of casualties both in training and on duty and it is our wish that, by further funding this research, Starfleet will be able to extend the protection of the S.P.E.D.A.R. system to all of its personnel.

"Thank you for your time and consideration. Are there any questions?"


	2. Chapter 1: Simulatus Interuptus

CHAPTER 1 _**CHAPTER 1. Simulatus Interuptus**_

_Marine Corps Log: Stardate 65401.2_

_We have entered the next phase of our training with the S.P.E.D.A.R. system. Although we have been training in the holodeck for three weeks now, the men have always known that it was a simulation. This time they think it's real. When they stepped onto the transporter pad, they thought they were beaming down to a planet for a real mission. Instead, they were beamed onto a holodeck where a pre-programmed battle simulation was already running. The results so far are not encouraging._

As the jungle widened out into a clearing, I ordered my unit to land to assess damages. They were negligible for myself, shields down to 96, weapons at 92, computer on-line and functioning. The rest of my team, however, since they were not as experienced as I was, wasn't so good; except for Perak. The Vulcan's system readings were almost as good as mine were. I linked into Kowalski's diagnostic and it didn't look good. His Force Field was in the process of failing as I watched and his weapons were down to ten percent. His computer was on-line, but just barely. The rest of the team wasn't a whole lot better. _Damned fools! They don't listen! The S.P.E.D.A.R. is NOT a starship. It's got a lot of the same functions as one but you can't use it like one! If you go trying to use evasive manoeuvre sequence delta or some such crap, you're going to fry your flight controls. Those moves are designed for impulse speeds in a starship, not 150 kph using anti-gravs! Anti-grav units are a whole different universe. They should have sent me combat troops to train as pilots, not pilots to train as combat troops._

"Kowalski," I said, "switch your shields to auxiliary and divert power from flight control to your computer and weapons systems, your anti-gravs have overloaded anyway. The rest of you, follow suit." I said, raising my voice slightly. "Power from any systems too damaged to function should be rerouted to the systems that need it most. Simmons, _don't_ draw from life support unless you've got nowhere else to draw from. What are you people, first year cadets?" I couldn't believe I had to tell them not to draw from _life support_!

"You got five mics to get your systems on-line, then we're moving out!" I checked my sensors. Pursuit was closer than it should have been. That probably meant that Donaldson hadn't gotten all of their vehicles.

"Make that two mics, we got company coming! Simmons, as soon as you're on-line, start active sensor sweeps from one six niner to two five zero."

"Yessir!" Simmons barked.

Two of my unit had lost flight control. They would have to be towed. The rest would have to make up for the spaces in formation. It just figured that now that we were clear of the subspace-dampening field around the compound and could fly again, we couldn't make our best time because two of my team were grounded. At least we had gotten the information we were after.

"Sir!" Simmons called. "Two marks at one eight niner, altitude one one zero meters. E.T.A. one mic and closing at two hundred k.p.h.!"

"Roger that. Lock and load people we're goin' hot! Simmons, Perak, get your tractors on-line you're towing Kowalski and Vorn. Move!"

"Yessir!"

"Aye sir," Perak's calm, Vulcan drawl seemed out of place.

"'Yes sir', not 'aye' Perak, we're soldiers not explorers."

"Yes sir." Perak replied, unphased.

As we took off again, my perimeter alarm went off. That meant that the pursuit was no more than half a mic from our position.

"Look alive people. Here they come. Simmons, you and Kowalski hit treetop level and get your H.I.C.S. on-line, go to stealth mode. Perak, Vorn, you go stealth too but Perak, get as high as you can. You're our eye in the sky. Scan those bogeys and transmit targeting info to our systems. If you get a shot, however, and we don't have it, then take it; don't wait for orders. The rest of you, spread out. We can't outrun them so we're gonna have to fight. Just remember that they're better armed and shielded but we're more manoeuvrable. Use that to your advantage. Use the trees and your H.I.C.S. systems for concealment, but remember H.I.C.S. doesn't make you invisible to an active scan. It's not a cloaking device. And for Chrissakes, don't try any more of those starship evasive patterns!"

A stream of Yessirs momentarily regaled me, and then the chatter cut to a minimum as the pursuit vehicles closed. They were not the shuttles I was expecting. They were only light skimmers, about the size of a Starfleet Runabout but designed more for pursuit of quarry on the ground and return transport, rather than airborne combat. They were built to retrieve prisoners that had tried to escape. Since it was unlikely that prisoners would be able to liberate any aircraft for their escape attempt, it was considered unnecessary to have vehicles configured to pursue airborne escapees. Good, they were still better armed and shielded than us but not as well armed or shielded as a shuttlecraft and it would take them an extra few seconds to reconfigure their weapons to track airborne targets. That should be all the time that we would need to take them down. Intel hadn't said anything about these so they must have had them concealed for just such an emergency as this. I guess Donaldson had done his job right after all. There was no way he could have known about these. Perak's steady voice cut into my reverie.

"First target, one eight niner, mark two, altitude one one five meters, sensors locked, transmitting targeting information. Second target one eight eight, mark three, altitude one two seven meters, sensors locked, transmitting targeting information."

Just then, something occurred to me. Something that just might save our asses. "Perak, change of plan. Concentrate on the lead ship. Give us targets that will bring down its shields without damaging it too severely. Vorn, you concentrate on the other ship. Give us targeting info to inflict maximum damage on that one."

Perak's voice came back, as calm as ever. "Transmitting new targeting information now."

If it had been anyone but Perak, I would have suspected them of sending false targeting information. It was damned _hard_ to, with one hand, recalibrate sensors, select new, non-lethal targets, individually lock those targets and transmit it all to us in, what was it, two seconds? Add to that, the fact that he had to do all that while maintaining a one-kilometer hover, _and_ holding Vorn steadily in a tractor beam with the other hand. Like I said, anyone but Perak.

Vorn's raspy hiss sounded like sandpaper on tritanium. "Target locked. Transssmitting." It was easier for Vorn; all he had to do was lock onto the shield generators and engines of the other ship, although, all Gorn were natural born navigators. It was in their D.N.A. or something. That probably helped his tracking and targeting ability.

The lead ship went high, going after Perak and Vorn. The second ship went low, heading for Simmons and Kowalski. (So much for stealth mode) They must have picked up the tractor beams' energy signatures.

"Q'iang! Donaldson! Go after the second ship. Mollen, you're with me. Computer, Jump!"

As Q'iang and Donaldson dove for the second ship, my computer, responding to the pre-programmed voice code --a verbal 'macro' command-- stopped all lateral motion and launched me vertically at maximum acceleration. The inertial dampeners built into the gravitic system kicked in as the acceleration increased and eventually maxed out at 25.7 g's. Without them, I would have been little more than a flying pizza. As I hit one thousand meters, I cancelled the 'Jump' and initiated a hover with a keystroke on my arm-mounted P.A.D.D. It had automatically reconfigured itself for flight control once flight mode had been initiated. I was there well ahead of the first ship. Mollen was four seconds behind me.

"You might want to spend some more time on a holo-simulator streamlining your voice protocols Mollen," I said, locking onto the first target on the lead ship. I relied on Perak's judgment that it was a valid target.

"Yes sir," he replied sheepishly. He had had to lay in course and speed manually to catch up to me.

"Computer, Battle Mode," I said.

Responding again to another macro command, my computer went into 'Battle Mode'. All voice commands were now directly executable. The computer did not have to wait for the prefix 'Computer', or stop to verify tactical commands. This is a dangerous procedure under the wrong circumstances but possibly life saving in combat when fractions of a second can mean the difference between life and death. I would have to watch what I said, though because, in Battle Mode', all weapons systems went immediately from standby to active mode. Also, my force field automatically engaged at full capacity, sensors went into full, active scan mode, the H.I.C.S. system went into stealth' mode and the anti-grav units cut my body weight to fifty percent to enable quick motion on the ground if necessary. One wrong word at this point could disable a key system at a critical juncture and that would end this little trip real fast.

The computer responded by displaying:

SYSTEM STATUS:

Force Field - Active - 96

Phaser Mk. VI - Armed - Pulse Mode - 92

Grenade Launcher - Armed - Photon Grenades - 09 Rnds

Sensors - Full Scan - two Targets Detected

H.I.C.S. - Active - Stealth Mode

Gravitic Control - Flight Mode Active - Subjective Weight - 50

in a green frame at the lower left of my field of vision. I reached down and 'touched' the point where the words '2 Targets Detected' floated. Immediately, two red crosshairs appeared, nearly in the center of my vision, splitting apart as the skimmers vectored for their intended targets. Tactical information scrolled down in green frames beside them. In 'battle mode', my R.L.P.D. displayed all sensor and targeting information as an overlay on my visual field without inhibiting my vision.

I concentrated on the lead ship and blinked. "Magnify target," I said.

Instantly an orange frame formed around the crosshair and expanded to fill my field of vision. The skimmer was outlined in white with green targets painted in various places on it. I blinked again and the image reduced to one quarter of its original size and dropped down to the bottom right corner of my display. As the skimmer approached, I concentrated on the target painted on the shield generator and again blinked. The target began flashing. I engaged P.O.I.N.T. flight control and headed for the skimmer, opening a channel to Mollen. "Mollen, target the shield generators."

"Yes, sir. Locking on." Mollen responded.

Since I was already locked on target, I simply pointed my arm to line up the targeting reticle with the target and touched my fingertips to the contacts on my palm. Pulsating blasts of rectified, phased energy lanced out from the top of my forearm, striking the shields of the skimmer for a full two seconds before disengaging. The target was precise, however, centering on the weakest point in the shields, and the skimmer's port shield generator was highlighted in yellow on my display. A second volley from Mollen and the generator glowed red.

The skimmer flashed by between us and as it pulled away, I closed the contacts again. This time, as the blasts struck the skimmer's shields there was a flash of brilliant, blue-white light and my display showed the generator outlined in black. Almost simultaneously, there was a flash from the other skimmer, below us, as it exploded in a roiling ball of incandescent orange flame and black smoke. My force field expanded and extended in response to the thermal radiation from the blast. The lead skimmer looked like it was circling for another pass. We didn't have much time. We had to get to the skimmer before it completed its turn.

"Good work people," I said. "Mollen, follow me in. The rest of you rendezvous with Perak at 1 k. and come in after us."

"Yes sir," they all responded as one.

I pointed my way toward the skimmer, vectoring in on its port side, with Mollen following behind. The skimmer's sensors must have been damaged as well as its shields because it didn't deviate from its course as we moved in on it. The pilot must have been too confused to begin visual checking -- good. I caught up with the skimmer, manoeuvred my way to the hatch and locked on with my tractor beam. Lowering my phaser setting to level fifteen, I began cutting into the duranium plating. The skimmer started bucking and gyrating dizzyingly. The pilot must have figured out what I was doing but it was too late for him because it only took four seconds to cut through the hatch plating. I clambered through the still glowing opening -- my force field buzzing and spitting where it contacted the hot metal. Once inside, the skimmer's inertial dampeners negated most of the effects of the high-G pitch and roll maneuvers the pilot was executing.

"Walk!" I said as my feet touched the deck. My computer responded by disengaging flight control and restoring my weight to normal. I noticed my P.A.D.D. reconfiguring to standard tactical controls.

"Intruder alert!" I heard the pilot call over the comm. The two burly prison guards coming toward me didn't need to be told I was there, though, because I immediately opened fire on them as soon as I saw them.

"Level ten," I said. As I depressed the firing pad on my palm, a bright, orange-white beam erupted from my phaser, striking the first guard dead center. He fell back, staring down at the twenty-centimeter hole gaping in his chest. Pieces of half-cooked gore dripped from the top of the cavity, and bubbling fluids leaked from the bottom. He looked back up at me accusingly, dropped to his knees and fell face first onto the deck.

The second guard had had time to duck behind a bulkhead and return fire. The blast from his phaser was loud and blinding white. The beam struck me full on. I could see my force field springing from one millimeter to thirty centimeters where the beam struck it, forming a bubble at the point of contact, trying to dissipate the excess heat. The guard could also see this. He quite obviously was not expecting me to still exist after he shot me. Despite this, there I was standing there unharmed, my force field having flowed like thick syrup back into position as soon as the guard ceased firing. He froze for an instant in shocked disbelief. That was all the time Mollen needed.

As I was dealing with the first guard, he had made his way through the ruined hatch and gotten to me just as the second guard was firing. Mollen's blinding white beam became a blinding white glow enveloping the second guard, expanding outward from the point of impact. The second guard simply vanished.

"Nice shooting," I said. The whole thing had taken only about five seconds.

"Thank you sir," he said.

"Secure from battle mode. Computer, maintain shield and weapons status," I said as I made my way forward to the cockpit. Mollen followed close behind.

"Did ya get 'em?" The pilot asked over his shoulder.

"Oh ya, we got 'em," I replied. The pilot jumped up in shock, turning and reaching for his phaser.

"Don't even think about it," I warned, raising my arm, my fingertips only millimeters from the firing contacts. He slowly moved his hand away from his weapon and raised it along with the other one.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"We're Alpha squad," Mollen replied, "and you're lucky you're even still alive."

"Relax Mollen," I said, "this gentleman is going to help us."

The pilot snorted. "Why should I help you?"

Despite the fact that I had just told Mollen to relax, this guy was already starting to piss me off too. "Because if you don't, you're going to end up like your two pals back there. We're in a hurry and we don't have time to screw around. Now, first shut up, second, set this bird down," I said, pointing my phaser meaningfully. He got the hint and sat down at the controls. "And don't try anything stupid, like cutting the gravity or crashing the ship either. I can fly this thing too and if you try anything, I'll just shoot you and land it myself. Computer, Comm channel theta. Perak, do you copy?"

"Yes sir, we are approaching the skimmer now. I assume you now have control of the vessel?" He asked.

"Affirmative," I responded, "but do not board, we are going to land. Rendezvous with us on the ground, out." I cut the channel without waiting for a reply and turned to the pilot.

"What the hell's taking so long?"

"Coming in now," the pilot said. "Five seconds."

The skimmer touched down with a gentle thud as the landing skids hit the turf.

"All right you," I said to the pilot, "get up. Go aft and get out of my ship. Start running as soon as you hit the ground. If you run fast, you might make it back to the compound before dark. It's south of here. Mollen, see him out."

"Yes sir!" Mollen said shoving the prisoner out of the cockpit.

"And Mollen," I called lightly.

"Yessir?" He said, turning.

"Disarm him," I said.

"Oh ... yes sir," he said quietly.

As Mollen was escorting the now disarmed ex-pilot out of my new skimmer, Perak had boarded and come forward.

"Perak, see if you can do something to get those shields working. I'm going to go aft and see about the hole I carved in the side."

"Aye sir," Perak said, as I passed him, arching one eyebrow in the ubiquitous Vulcan gesture that they all seemed to use.

"Perak," I said, turning back to face him, "I thought I told you to say 'yes sir', not 'aye sir'."

"Yes, sir, you did. However, we are now on board a ship, albeit a small one. Since we are still officially part of Starfleet, while we are aboard, the Commanding Officer is referred to as 'Captain', and orders are affirmed with 'Aye'. That is, of course, the strictest interpretation of Starfleet protocol." He seemed almost _amused_ that I hadn't picked up on that.

"Well, even so, I don't give a rat's ass about Starfleet protocol while we're in the field, _I_ am in command here and you will follow _my_ protocols. You will refer to me as 'sir' or 'Colonel' at all times and confirm my orders with 'Yes sir' or 'Affirmative'. Is that clear mister?"

"Affirmative, sir," he replied, unoffended, of course.

I went aft shaking my head. _Vulcans!_

When I got to the blasted hatch, Vorn and Kowalski were already working on it. I could see Q'iang and Donaldson doing an inspection of the exterior, probably checking for any collateral damage.

"What's your prognosis gentlemen?" I asked.

"About forty mics, using our replicators to rebuild the hatch," Kowalski replied. "We'll have to cannibalize some of the interior bulkheads and layer it out from the breach until it's whole again. We could halve that if we get two more working on it."

"We could get it done even fassster if we could find the pieccce you cut out of it, sssir." Vorn rasped.

"We don't have the time for a search party. Work in relays, one of you cannibalizing replication mass while the other is laying down new hatch plating, then switch.

"Computer, Comm channel alpha. Q'iang, Donaldson, Get to the hatch and help there. Never mind the exterior inspection."

"Roger that, sir" said Donaldson.

"Affirmative," said Q'iang.

I went forward again to talk to Perak.

"Perak, can this ship make orbit?" I asked.

"Negative sir," he replied, "this is an atmospheric craft only. There is no Warp or even Impulse drive. I would estimate its top speed to be four hundred kilometers per hour."

"Well what the hell good is that?" I exclaimed rhetorically.

Perak, assuming the question was literal, answered. "It is probably deliberate. In the unlikely event that escapees stole this vessel, they would not be able to use it to get off-planet, thus making their retrieval easier."

"Okay, so much for plan A. We'll have to go to plan B." I quipped. "What about the shields, can they be repaired?"

"Yes sir, however it will take approximately forty mics."

"Very well, get on it."

"There is something else though, sir." He indicated the diagnostic readout, which he had been reviewing. It showed an outline of the skimmer. A portion of one nacelle was flashing. "The secondary plasma conduit in the port nacelle has a small rupture, probably caused by flying debris from the other skimmer. It will take an additional ten point four mics to complete repairs if I do them. It will take one of the others approximately twice that time."

"Very well, continue repairs on the shields. One of the others can take care of the plasma conduit. Altogether, it will still only be another forty mics until we are airborne."

"Logical." He responded, again raising his eyebrow. He headed aft to the shield generator.

I keyed open the TAC. frequency comm channel on my P.A.D.D. It had already reconfigured itself back to standard settings when I secured from battle mode and had highlighted comm controls when I verbally opened a comm channel.

"Simmons, Mollen, where are you?" I called.

Mollen responded first. "Mollen here, sir, I'm tracking the pilot to make sure he doesn't try to double back and sneak up on us."

Simmons took a couple of seconds to answer. "Simmons here, sir, I'm setting up a temporary perimeter defence. I've detected a number of large carnivores in the area."

"Very well," I said, "Mollen, keep tracking him until he gets one klick away, and then maintain a passive lock on him. When you're sure he's not coming back, I want you to begin repairs on the port nacelle's secondary plasma conduit. If you can't find the problem by scanning the nacelle, set your A.T.I.C. to link with the skimmer's computer and let _it_ tell you where the problem is. Simmons, finish up as quickly as you can, then I want you to get to the shield generator and help Perak but keep an eye on the perimeter defense scanners"

I didn't wait for a response from them. I cut the channel and headed out to get airborne. I wanted to get a look around for myself. This planet was inhabited by semi-sentient hominids and if there were large carnivores around, I wanted to make sure that there were no hunting parties around that were tracking the same prey as the predators. If this world were a Federation one, that wouldn't have been a problem. But the Breen officially owned this world; they rented it to the Humans, who ran a Field Observation Facility'. The Breen didn't have anything like the Prime Directive, and the Humans who ran the place weren't affiliated with the Federation. They didn't care if their presence interfered with the development of the hominids or not. All they were studying' was the feasibility of turning these hominids into slave labor for the black market -- a blatantly illegal endeavor. The hominids were pre-agricultural, a hunter-gatherer society. They were just intelligent enough to allow them to be trained but not advanced enough to more than marginally protest their enslavement. They were more intelligent than one of Earth's more advanced primates but not as advanced as a modern Human. Approximately midway between Neanderthal man and Cro-Magnon man. They probably thought that their captors were Gods or something. After the Dominion war, the Breen were allowed to keep their independence but they were forced to, grudgingly, accept Federation policing of their territory. This was the reason we were here, to get enough information on the operation to allow the Federation to prove its illegality. Then they could overrule the Breen's protests of Federation interference' and send in Starfleet to put an end to it.

I started thinking about the things we had seen, remembering the events that had taken place when we first arrived. We had watched from hidden vantage points behind the foliage and shrubbery at the edge of the forest. Using our R.L.P.D.'s we were able to zoom in and look directly through the force field walls of the compound which were mostly opaque due to the almost constant impact of insects against them. We had had to drop our own force fields for the same reason while we were trying to make a stealthy approach. Otherwise the constant buzzing and snapping of the insects against them would have given out position away instantly.

The "training" of the hominids was brutal, even vicious. All of the pitiful creatures wore obedience collars and we had visually recorded incidents of beatings, whippings, the use of Klingon Pain Stiks, even murder. All used to force these hominids to do the slavers' bidding. The conditions under which these creatures had to live were intolerable.

When Mollen had seen this, he was horrified. The more he saw the angrier he had gotten until, finally, he had gone ballistic. Having been raised by foster parents who had grown up during the Cardassian Occupation, he had heard graphic stories about the savage brutality suffered by his people under the iron fists of the Cardassians, including how his real parents--resistance fighters--had been tortured to death by them. Ever since he was a boy he had vowed that he would never allow such atrocities to be committed by anyone ever again. This had been the catalyst for his entering Starfleet academy in the first place and also for his choosing medicine as a career. Seeing the ill treatment of these hominids now and, of course, not realizing that it was only a simulation, he acted more by instinct than reason. I understood his reaction but that didn't mean I had to like it. It was a good reaction for a doctor but one hell of a bad one for a Marine. He charged the compound roaring and firing wildly in all directions. His shots only bounced off the force field walls harmlessly, but they did make an impressive shower of sparks. He had left us with no alternative. We had to back him up or he would have been killed. That would have given away the fact that this was only a simulation and blown the whole exercise.

The slavers thought that they were under attack by an army -- which wasn't that far from the truth, considering the power of the S.P.E.D.A.R. system. Even without the ability to fly, we still represented quite a considerable threat to them. I had immediately ordered Mollen back, but to no avail.

"All right I'm goin' in after him. Everyone get your shields up. Kowalski, you're with me," I ordered. "Perak, Vorn, take out as many of those towers as you can, starting with the gate towers. The rest of you, give us covering fire, stay here and wait for my orders. Computer, Battle Mode." I raced for the gate opening at top speed with Kowalski glued to my six and slightly to my right.

Each section of the compound wall was a high-energy force field, ensnared between large towers. A field that, now fully energized, was so powerful it rippled in rainbow colors as it scorched the very molecules of the air that came into contact with it. To touch it would be instant death as every cell in your body was simultaneously disrupted at the molecular level. At the top of each tower was a covered platform. Each platform had a Phaser Cannon emplacement that was capable of bringing down a shuttlecraft. The front gate was also a force field, suspended between two generator pylons, in the middle of the south wall of the compound. I set my phaser to level sixteen, locked onto the left pylon and fired. The ground shuddered as the pylon erupted in a fountain of fire, smoke and sparks and the force field gate went down. If our gravitic generators hadn't been disrupted by the subspace dampening field around the compound, we could have flown over the force field and landed right in the middle of the compound. Instead, we had to shoot our way in and hope we didn't get killed in the process. At least our shields still worked.

_Damn!_ I thought. _This was supposed to be a_ recon _mission_. _They weren't even supposed to know we were here! _I reset my phaser to wide field and took down three guards in one shot. _Now we're gonna have to fight our way out of here. Not only that but when the TAC Team shows up, they're gonna get a nice, warm welcome from these assholes. Great! If this was real, I swear da gawd I'd shoot 'im myself!_

I had lost sight of Mollen. I moved quickly along the road that led into the compound, under cover of Stealth Mode, through the ruined gate, and caught sight of him to the right of it. He didn't even have his Stealth Mode activated. I couldn't see if his shield was active or not so I tapped into his display. Thankfully he had at least had the presence of mind to activate it. He was just outside a large area fenced in by another force field, probably the landing field. To the left, another guard was coming out of a building that looked like it was offices constructed from native wood. He was drawing a bead on Mollen.

I fired, aiming instinctively. The shot went just wide and the guard dove back into the building. I didn't want to give him and his buddies a chance to come out firing, so I set my phaser to pulse mode and fired. The blasts raked across the side and front of the building, demolishing the walls as they went. The weakened structure gave way and the roof collapsed. Kowalski fired two photon grenades into the building next to it, just in case. The building erupted in a cloud of smoke and fire. Shards of flaming wood bounced off my force field.

All this destruction had made us into pretty high-priority targets. We had to move despite our stealth camouflage. Perak and Vorn had done a good job of taking out the towers beside the gate but there were seven more to go. As I turned back, briefly, I noticed two more towers being hit by photon grenades. I bolted across the compound towards Mollen, firing at targets of opportunity as I went. Kowalski followed close behind, covering me every step of the way. Even on the ground, he wouldn't leave his wingman. _Good! Maybe some of this training is finally sinking in._ Explosions from the towers' phaser cannons detonated around us but, fortunately, none hit home. Stealth mode is nearly perfect when you're standing still but when you're moving, it's a different story. The H.I.C.S. system doesn't have enough time to make a perfect image around you before the image needs to be changed, so ripples and edges can show. The effect is like watching someone that is made of glass or water.

Mollen had headed past the landing field toward a group of low buildings. They were gray ferrocrete, with no markings on the outside except for a large number painted on the wall beside each door. Obviously they were barracks and Mollen was going to free the slaves within. I could see guards coming from everywhere. _Jesus H. Christ!_ I thought. _We are gonna get the royal, living _shit_ kicked out of us if we don't get out of here fast!_ I started calling orders.

"Donaldson! Get to that hangar and take out their aircraft. Perak, Vorn, stay on those towers. Q'iang, Simmons, follow us in, cover Donaldson and then all three of you get back to the gate and cover our retreat. Concentrate on those buildings. Mollen, dammit!"

I finally caught up with him just outside the barracks building marked '6'. Our force fields, being auto-synced for first aid purposes merged seamlessly as I grabbed him, spun him around with as much force as I could muster and pinned him against the wall. "Mollen, what the hell are you doing?" I bellowed. "This is a _recon_ mission, not a fucking assault! We're not equipped for this. We have to get out of here, now! He looked at me as if I was crazy.

"Colonel, those people are being tortured!"

I pulled him around the corner of the building and pinned him again. Kowalski spun around the corner and dropped to one knee to cover us. My opinion of _him_ went up a notch. I knew he was more comfortable tinkering with an engine than ground-pounding with the rest of the grunts but he was a grunt himself and proud of it so he stepped up and did well enough when the chips were down. I turned back to Mollen and I could see that there was no reasoning with him. I set my phaser on maximum stun and made sure that he saw me do it.

"That is not our business Mister! Do you understand me?" I asked. "I know your history; all about your parents but we are on a RECON mission! Our primary objective is stealth! Does this look very stealthy to you?" I didn't wait for an answer, letting the obvious destruction going on around us make my point for me. "Now, we can get out of here one of two ways. Either we all go out fighting, or I stun you and carry you all the way back to H.Q. where you will be court-martialled for gross insubordination in the face of the enemy and drummed out of the Corps! _Are you reading me Mister?_" I yelled. Since this was only a simulation, the threat of a court-martial was empty but he didn't know that. My next decision—whether or not to keep him in my unit—would be based on his answer.

He seemed to regain some of his composure and straightened up. "Sir, yes sir!" he yelled back. I released him, took a half step back and decided that he wasn't a total loss but I would have to have words with him later.

"Very well then." I said. "Let's go!"

We moved out toward the gate. "_Squad!_ Grab your ass and make it fast! We're outta here! Get airborne as soon as you're clear of the dampening field and meet up back at the rendezvous point. Don't be late." We ran full speed toward the gate firing all the way. I could hear the yelling and screaming of the compound security forces mobilizing. They were coming out after us but I didn't hear any engines, so they were following on foot. Good! I thought. We'll catch them off guard at the rendezvous point.

We picked up Perak and Simmons at the tree line. The jungle wasn't very dense; it consisted mainly of hundred meter tall trees that branched eccentrically at half-meter intervals, starting at about three meters above the ground. We had picked the densest part of it for our recon position but only the edge of the tree line had thicker undergrowth, extending only a few meters into the trees where the light could penetrate. The rest of the undergrowth further in was chiefly sparse ferns and grasses, probably held back from their full growth by the interlocking branches above, which didn't allow much light through to ground level. The jungle itself was only cut back about ten meters from the walls of the compound -- a pretty lousy way to set up a security perimeter. In any secure facility, the jungle would be cleared to at least one hundred meters from the perimeter of the compound. The way it was now, it covered our escape quite nicely.

As we made our way to the rendezvous point, I started thinking. _This really _was_ too easy. The generator pylons for the force fields should have been shielded too._ It's too easy to knock out the fields that way. However, I didn't have time to dwell on it. Pursuit was only seventy-five meters behind us, and starting to close. I had to make sure that we got to the rendezvous point in time. "Mollen, Simmons, watch your spacing. Everyone, spread out. Twenty meters. Go."

It was a running battle all the way to the rendezvous point. As soon as we were clear of the dampening field, we got airborne but by that time, the guards had brought up land vehicles and kept up the pursuit. (So much for catching them off guard.) I saw my men manoeuvring wildly through the air, trying to avoid the blasts from the vehicles. _Idiots! They're going to fry their flight controls using maneuvers like that!_ I didn't have time to tell them about it though because I had problems of my own, trying to evade the blasts coming at me.

_That's it!_ I thought. _Enough of this dicking around!_ "Squad! Listen up! Get altitude as fast as you can; straight up! Do it now! Computer, Jump!" Once we were all high enough to be beyond the range of the guards' weapons, I set my course for the beam-down point and instructed everyone to do the same; then we were off and flying. I could see that Kowalski was having problems with his flight controls but I hoped that he could make it.

--

I wrenched myself back to the present. My scans had revealed none of the hominid life forms present so I headed back to the skimmer. Once it was repaired, the ones who had fried their flight controls wouldn't slow us down. I was surprised when I checked the time and discovered that I had been ruminating for thirty mics. It was almost time to be going. When I got to the skimmer, Perak was waiting for me at the newly repaired hatch.

"Sir," he said. "The shield generator was not as badly damaged as it appeared so I was able to effect repairs more quickly than I had anticipated. I was about to go and assist in the repair of the plasma conduit."

"Very well," I said. "Get on it."

"Yes sir," he replied.

Suddenly, behind me, a section of trees shimmered and disappeared, replaced by a set of pressure doors. I turned at the sound just in time to see the doors parting and a man walking through the opening. He was a white-haired, balding man of about fifty-five or sixty, still young by twenty-fourth century standards. He carried himself with a calm dignity that projected a strength of character born of years of experience. The rest of the men had stopped what they were doing to stare at the man who had interrupted what by now (to my men) was obviously a simulation, without warning. Interrupting a holodeck simulation without warning was dangerous to the people running the simulation. In this case, it was also dangerous to the person doing the interrupting because we were pushing the safety protocols a bit. A person could get hurt, to say the least.

I could see the looks on their faces changing from shock to disbelief to anger and finally to acceptance and disappointment as each in turn realized that they were not on a real mission. Perak just looked at me with that ubiquitous raised eyebrow and Vorn's reptilian Gorn features, as usual, were unreadable.

"What the...?"

"No _way_!"

"Shit!"

"Another damned sim! Colonel..."

"Never mind Kowalski. All of you, secure that talk and get your shit together."

The man spoke. "Computah, freeze program."


	3. Chapter 2: Messing With My Schedule

_**Chapter 2. **_

**_Messing _**_**With My Schedule**_

"All right everyone, that's it for today. Get cleaned up and fed. Debriefing in forty mics. I want sensor data, tactical analysis and strategic recommendations. We start right back here at oh nine hundred tomorrow. And people, make sure you put those suits in the recycler. They're not simulated and we don't want a repeat of Donaldson's little incident. Mollen, I'll want to see you in my office later. Dismissed. Computer, save program and end."

The computer chirped and as my men filed out of the holodeck, the forest shimmered and vanished, replaced by the interlocking network of holo-projectors and force field emitters that make up a Starfleet holodeck. The man gestured me out and toward the turbolift. The trip from the holodeck to the turbolift was navigated in silence. As we waited for it to arrive, a young Lieutenant came running up, breathless. I noticed from her facial and neck spots that she was a Trill. I didn't know if it was a native Trill pheromone or what, but she exuded the most alluring scent. She glanced quizzically at me for a moment and turned to the Captain.

"Captain, I'm glad I caught you. You asked to be informed of this as soon as possible." She handed a P.A.D.D. to the Captain.

"Thank you Lieutenant, dismissed." As she walked away, she glanced briefly back a second time and I got the distinct impression that she had recognized me. While the Captain -- Jean-Luc Picard -- perused the text on the P.A.D.D., I took the opportunity to more closely analyze this almost legendary man, about whom I knew almost nothing except by reputation and rumor.

It was a hard bet to say which of the two -- reputation or rumor -- was more outlandish. On the one hand, his reputation was reminiscent of another legend. One James T. Kirk, who was attributed with having been involved in more 'significant occurrences' in one five-year period of history than any one individual could possibly have been. Yet the Starfleet records were there to prove that he was.

Picard had had his share of significant occurrences' as well. The incident with the Borg was well known, if not well publicized. There were also several other incidents involving not just the Borg, but Firengi, Romulans, Cardassians, Klingons and dozens of new species as well. His reputation spoke of a skilled mediator and diplomat and a deadly adversary, pulling himself and his ship out of virtually hopeless situations time and time again. On the other hand, he was rumored to have single handedly saved the whole Federation on no less than twenty occasions, traveled through time more than once, despite the fact that Starfleet standing orders strictly forbid it, returned from the dead, experienced the entire lifetime of an alien being and been transformed into a non-corporeal life form. He was one of the few beings to ever come into conflict with the Q continuum and win. He was even said to have turned down _four_ Admiralty promotions in favor of commanding a starship. _And_ that he had done _that_ on the recommendation of one _James T. Kirk!_ A man who -- according to Starfleet records -- had been dead for nearly a century!

Yet despite all of his exploits during the seven years prior to and the twenty-three years since the destruction of the Enterprise D, he still looked no more than fifty, without a trace of weakness or mental deficiency about him. I had to assume that this was natural because a man of Jean-Luc Picard's singularity would definitely never alter his appearance for pure indulgence. After the Enterprise D had been destroyed, he subsequently assumed command of Enterprises E, F and now G as well. For twenty-two years, Picard had been at the forefront of almost every major political, technological and sociological turning point in federation space. Picard's face was as well known as Katherine Janeway's or Zephram Cochrane's.

The turbolift doors opened and we stepped in. The computer chirped as I stated my destination. "Deck twelve."

"Belay that," the Captain countermanded. The computer responded with another chirp. "Deck one, observation lounge." The turbolift began to move and the Captain turned to me. "Colonel, please forgive my sudden interruption of your simulation, I know how dangerous it can be especially when those involved don't know they are in a simulation, but we have urgent business and your presence _is_ required."

"It's all right Captain, no one was hurt, besides the simulation was too easy anyway." I replied. "We walked all over them. Nobody hires help that is _that_ incompetent."

He frowned, "Mmm ... we can discuss that later." The rest of the trip was quiet.

As the turbolift came to a stop, it rotated ninety degrees to the right and the doors hissed open on a small hallway. We exited the turbolift, traversed the hallway and walked through another set of doors, which brought us into the muted lighting of the observation lounge. Seated around a large table shaped like a squared-off horseshoe were several people. Since I hadn't been given the chance to change, I was still in my full combat gear. Out of habit, with rapid eye blinks, I accessed the ship's library files and brought up basic files on all of them. Through my display, names appeared below the face of each one in blue and standard biographical data started scrolling up beneath the names in white.

On one arm of the table, seated with their backs to the door through which we had just entered, were the legendary Commodore Data, who had actually turned down his own offers of Captaincy to pursue research for Starfleet. Because his time served warranted a Captain's rank but he did not command a starship, he was awarded the rank of 'Commodore'. Next to him were Commander Geordi La Forge, Captain Picard's second-in-command, (La Forge had followed the example of Picard's former 'Number One' and also turned down 'The Big Chair' so he could remain aboard the flagship.) and Lieutenant Rafael Simmons, Chief of Security and brother of Corporal Joel Simmons, from my unit. On the other arm of the table, facing me, were seated Lieutenant-Commander Katan, the ship's Science officer, and the Chief Medical Officer, Lieutenant-Commander Vincent Dyer. I nodded to each of them in turn, as Picard gestured me to a seat on the connecting arm, facing the capacious observation window. In front of each of us, suspended in mid air, was a holographic computer terminal. In the open space at the center of the table, mounted into the floor was another, larger holo-projector.

"Colonel Garren," Picard began. "I interrupted your simulation and brought you here from the holodeck myself to underscore the importance of this meeting. A situation has arisen which could affect the security of the entire Federation. Commodore Data."

Data's voice was calm as he addressed me. "Eighteen years ago, on Stardate 44002, on its way to sector zero zero one, a single Borg cube attacked and destroyed a Starfleet armada of thirty-nine ships at a star system called Wolf 359." A three dimensional image appeared in the air above the projector showing a Borg cube approaching a group of Starfleet vessels. "Starfleet had deployed the fleet to intercept them and, if possible, stop their advance." Phaser fire and photon torpedoes from the Starfleet vessels blasted away at the cube to little effect. "They were destroyed in minutes, with very little damage inflicted on the Borg ship." The display changed to two Borg drones floating, frozen, in space. "However, the Borg ship was hit in an area that contained two Borg drones. These were found drifting in space at the scene of the battle after many months of scanning the debris field. Somehow, they were disconnected from the collective before the order to self-destruct could be issued. They were dormant." The scene in the display changed to a laboratory with the two drones on bio-beds. "They were taken to a Starfleet research facility and studied for three years. Their subspace transceivers, which connected them to the Borg collective, were removed, the bodies were dissected and the Borg technology was examined in depth. However, the encryption codes used by the Borg command algorithms were too complex to decode and no headway could be made, so the drones were put into stasis and the project was shelved.

The display again changed, to the bio file of a human. Equivalent data appeared on the smaller screens in front of us. "Two years ago, Dr. Richard Monk, the director of Starfleet Research and Development, took the drones out of stasis and began studying them again. He used information gained from Seven of Nine, the Borg drone freed from the collective by Admiral Janeway and his research proved more successful. He was able to decode the Borg algorithms. Using the knowledge gained from studying the Borgs' nanoprobes, as well as information, again supplied by Seven of Nine, he was able to apply Borg advancements to Federation Nanotechnology." The display showed a microprobe recording of Borg nanoprobes fusing with federation nanites. "He used the new technology to design a personal defensive system similar to your S.P.E.D.A.R. system and submitted his own proposal to Starfleet. Starfleet, however, rejected his proposal because they felt that the Borg technology was too unstable to be reliable in combat. The possibility existed that the new nanoprobes would become independent and then reprogram themselves to be more like their Borg predecessors. Consequently, Starfleet decided to go with your proposal instead of Dr. Monk's."

The display disappeared and Commodore Data turned to me. "Six months ago, Dr. Monk and his team disappeared along with all of their research data and the prototype modified nanoprobes. Starfleet Intelligence has reason to believe that he and his colleagues have produced an outlaw version of the nanoprobe armor. Commander La Forge."

Commander La Forge rose and reactivated the holographic display. "This is the way the system was supposed to work. According to the reports sent to Starfleet by Dr. Monk prior to his disappearance, he had completed testing and had built a prototype of his system. He called it M.O.N.T.A.R. -- Modified Nanoprobe Tactical Armor. The nanoprobes are carried in a container on the user's belt. When activated, they immediately begin replicating themselves." The display showed a man being enveloped by what looked like some kind of semi-viscous material. "They utilize the user's clothes and any available materials in the surrounding area and soon layer themselves over the user's entire body. This takes about twenty seconds.

Once the nanoprobes completely cover the body, they then take over life support for the individual and begin manufacturing the on board systems. Among these are a forced-plasma discharge unit, the main small arm for the Borg, and the adaptable Borg shields." The central hologram showed the weapon forming on the person's arm and firing and then cut to a longer view of the person being hit by phaser fire, which dissipated harmlessly off the rapidly forming shields. Specifications and TAC analysis appeared on the smaller holo-screen in front of me.

"Once this is completed, the nanoprobes on the surface layer form armor constructed from a material that we still don't know how Dr. Monk developed. It is as strong and hard as duranium but as flexible as rubber. It seems to be formed from millions of tiny hexagonal plates. Somehow, Dr. Monk has programmed the nanoprobes to bond the plates together along their edges in such a way that when force is applied perpendicular to the axis of the bond it bends yet it completely resists force applied parallel to the bond. The material is nearly impervious to phaser fire and can probably withstand the blast from a photon grenade. Once it is sealed, it is completely airtight and can function in hard vacuum.

"Its camouflage system is very unique. The nanoprobes physically sample the surrounding area and transform the outer layers of the armor, molecule by molecule _into_ the terrain. It's so close to the original material that normal sensors can't detect it. It just registers _as_ the original material." The display changed to a man in M.O.N.T.A.R. armor running, stopping, lying down and transforming into a small, rotting log. The nanoprobes even replicate and exude scent molecules so close to the original that the difference can't be detected even by a Klingon or a synthetic life form such as Commodore Data here." He nodded to Data, who nodded back.

"The nanoprobe armor modifies itself independently in response to a situation. Although it will take specific directives from the user, it doesn't normally require instructions. The only way that I've determined to detect them is to wait until they move so that they will register on a molecular displacement motion detector. Doctor." He seated himself and Doctor Dyer stood up and gestured at the display, which zoomed in on an individual enveloped by the nanoprobes.

"The system is supposed to be employed on the surface of the skin only. None of the nanoprobes should ever enter the user's body. However, the outlaw armor does. It permeates itself throughout the user's entire body. They actually represent a significant benefit to the user because, in addition to their normal functioning, they also maintain the user's health. They scour through the user's bloodstream and seek out infection etcetera like an extra immune system. They will also repair damage to the body caused by almost anything -- weapons fire, broken limbs, cuts, bruises, even dandruff if you want them to." A chuckle rippled around the table. "The other benefit to this form of the armor is that, once inside the brain, the nanoprobes build a neural interface so that the user can simply think what he wants and the nanoprobes will do it. The problem is that in order to get all these benefits, the nanoprobes have to be given almost total autonomy. This means that if they modify themselves too much, they could turn the user into a Borg-like drone with no independent will. Essentially, the user will simply be a vessel for the nanoprobes to use in pursuit of their own agenda."

"Wait a minute," I said. "You're telling me that these nanoprobes are _intelligent_?"

"Well… not exactly," he replied. "Individually, they are no more intelligent than any collection of circuitry can be, present company excepted." He nodded to Commodore Data, who, again, simply nodded back. "Say, about as intelligent as a communicator. However, we have seen that, when interacting together, it's possible that millions of them can form a kind of consciousness. A situation similar to this actually occurred on the Enterprise D. The situation is analogous to the cells of your brain. Individually, neurons are not intelligent at all but when connected, they form an intelligent mind."

He reseated himself. "Commander Katan."

The Vulcan remained seated. "The only things that the M.O.N.T.A.R. system does not seem to have, that your system does have, are the advanced tactical software, the gravitic flight controls, the transporter and the tractor\repulsor beam. However, the collective power of the nanoprobes intelligence would seem to negate the necessity for the software and they significantly increase the user's physical strength. We don't know why Dr. Monk didn't incorporate flight systems into his armor, although it is possible that the gravitic fields could adversely affect the nanoprobes – that may give you a tactical advantage -- and we're assuming that he just didn't think of the transporter. However, if he does think of it, I'm sure that the nanoprobes could construct one."

I turned to the Captain, indicating Commander Katan with a gesture. "He just said the gravitic fields would give _me_ a tactical advantage. Is there a point to your telling me all this or is this whole meeting just for my entertainment?"

Picard looked grim. "There is indeed a very good point." He gestured to the security officer. "Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Simmons sounded just as grim as the Captain did. "Two weeks ago, a Federation high-security facility on Falthas II was penetrated by a small force. They were completely successful in gaining access to their main computer and getting away with some very valuable information; information that could jeopardize the lives of Federation operatives involved in some very sensitive undercover operations.

We believe the team that penetrated the facility was using the M.O.N.T.A.R. armor. They were fast, deadly, and completely undetectable on the facility's sensors. They got in, killed everyone there, got their information and got out in less than ten mics." He paused, apparently waiting for my reaction.

I had a good idea what this was all leading up to but I decided to play dumb. "So? What has that got to do with me?"

Picard spoke up, finally spelling it all out. "Not just you, Colonel, your team as well. We want you to find Dr. Monk, get the M.O.N.T.A.R. nanoprobes and the information they stole from Falthas II, and destroy all copies of the armor, as well as all of Dr. Monk's research. Then bring Dr. Monk back for trial."

I laughed. "You've got to be kidding! There's just no way! My men aren't even finished training with the armor. If I'm reading you right, no one who uses this other armor needs any training, they can just think what they want so they don't need to learn how to use the stuff.

"Look, despite what I put in my proposal to Starfleet, the S.P.E.D.A.R. system takes several weeks to fully get the hang of. Oh sure anyone can put on a suit and use its basic functions, but the system is designed to be user specific. It takes a lot of tweaking just to refine the personal protocols that each user establishes. It's trial and error for the first little while until they find what works best for them. That's what makes the system so good, once the personal protocols are established the user doesn't have to think, the system already knows what he wants and gives it to him. But the rapport between the user and the computer must be built up over a period of time. There's no getting around that. If you rush it then the computer could start giving you stuff you don't need at the wrong time, or not giving you what you _do_ need and get you or someone else killed!

"I'm totally familiar with the system because I designed it, but until three weeks ago my men had never even heard of it. I know that they're training for missions exactly like this one but if you send them out now they're all gonna get killed and that won't do anyone any good, especially them. There must be someone else. Some other people that are already trained for search and destroy missions. My men and I can't be your only option. Where's Starfleet Security while all this is going on?"

For the first time, Picard seemed just a little bit nonplussed. "We ahh, have reason to believe that Starfleet Security is... well, shall we say already involved. We can't be sure, mind you, but we are reasonably certain that the reason Dr. Monk was able to get away with this technology in the first place is that someone in Starfleet Security _let_ him go. As of this moment, those in this room and Admiral Johaness at Starfleet Headquarters are the only people who know about this operation. That is part of the reason that we selected you and your men. No one knows about your team either. As far as Starfleet Command is concerned, your work is still in the prototype stage. Completely untested and unproven. In addition, you are the only ones who stand a chance against Dr. Monk's technology. Unaided and untrained, nobody could go up against this formidable a foe and win.

I laughed again -- hollowly. "Starfleet Command is right, the armor is untested. You just interrupted the first real test. Besides, what makes you think we'll win?"

Again, for the first time, he smiled. "Simple, we're the good guys. Now Colonel, you will have two more weeks to train your team --"

"_Two weeks_?" I said. "I'll need at least twice that long just to get my team functioning as a team!"

"You don't have it!" Picard snapped. "We have retrieved information from a very reliable source that an attempt will be made on the life of the new Telamon ambassador. If Monk has taken the contract then they will strike when the Ambassador is most vulnerable. In two and a half weeks, he will be on Risa taking a well-earned vacation after having just completed the Telamon's treaty with the Federation. The security on Risa is noticeably low and he is refusing extra guards. He doesn't believe that the threats are genuine. You will remain on Risa until Dr. Monk arrives and stop him from killing the ambassador. Then you will arrest him and retrieve the stolen data at that time."

"And you want me to pull guard duty on some pretentious fool who won't take protection when his life is at stake? Even if Monk strikes there, we won't be able to get close enough to the ambassador to protect him without him noticing us. My team just isn't that good yet."

"I have confidence in you, Colonel. I have seen you and your team in action on the holodeck and I'm sure you will perform admirably."

"That may be Captain, but you know as well as I do that the holodeck is not the same as the real thing. When they get out there, they're going to be in a whole different world. Besides, we haven't been training for this kind of mission. We've been training for things like recon, assault and retrieval. We don't have any experience with this kind of mission."

Picard smiled again, and I got the distinct feeling that he had set me up. "That's why you're not going alone Colonel. The rest of you are dismissed, thank-you all. Commodore, if you would excuse us as well please?" He tapped his communicator as Data and the others filed out of the room. "Lieutenant Tan, would you join us please."

I had a sneaking suspicion, which was confirmed almost immediately. The doors opposite the ones the others were leaving by opened and the young Trill Lieutenant from in front of the turbolift walked in.

"Colonel Johnson T. Garren, Lieutenant Olorina Tan," Picard said.

"Now wait a minute Captain, I can't put an untrained person on my team. She has no experience using the S.P.E.D.A.R. system or working with my team. I'm having enough trouble training my team as it is let alone throwing another person into the mix two weeks before we have to ship out."

"Well you're going to have to work with her because she _is_ an expert on just the things you will need on this mission. You will have to familiarize her with your equipment and integrate her into your team by the time you leave."

The young Lieutenant spoke up. "Excuse me Colonel Garren, but this won't be as hard as you think. With all due respect, sir, you're not getting a raw recruit here. I have been familiarizing myself with your designs for two weeks now and I have even developed a few personal protocols of my own. You will find that I am quite experienced in security procedures, and I believe that I can help you train your team."

"Train my team?" I said laughing. "How are you going to help me train my team when you aren't even trained yourself?"

Tan's face flushed indignantly and her eyes flashed as she spoke. "As I said Colonel, I _am_ trained. I graduated first in my class at the academy and second in my class in the Advanced Tactical and Security postgraduate course-."

I couldn't resist. I raised my hand. "Wait a second. Only second in your class?"

Picard glanced at me with a particular glint in his eye. He knew I was only giving her a hard time. Lt. Tan looked at me as well; her glance was defiant. "It came down to me and a Vulcan female named Selan. We were completely even until the final martial arts test. She beat me with a particularly devious wrist lock that, after the match, she told me she had learned from a Nausican, some time back." This time Picard glanced sharply at Lt. Tan and, just for an instant, frowned. Tan continued, unaware of Captain Picard's glance.

Aside from that, I hold doctorates in computer science and cybernetics, a bachelor's degree in exobiology and a sixth Dan black belt in jiu-jitsu. I also have an honorary instructor's rating in Klingon Mak'ba'ra. I served two years on the Potemkin, as Chief of Security, and in my time aboard her, there was not a single breach of security. Furthermore, I have just finished serving two years on the President of the Federation's security detail-"

"During which time," Picard piped in, "She personally thwarted three separate attempts on the President's life, and -- alone and unarmed -- saved one of the President's husbands from terrorists who had attempted to assassinate him."

Tan flushed. "I wasn't going to mention that sir," she said timorously, but continued more resolutely. "What I _was_ going to say was that due to my experience on the President's security detail, I can protect a person without seeming to do so and without interfering with their daily routines. I can shadow the Ambassador so closely that I can tell you if he brushed his teeth this morning -- assuming he _has_ teeth -- and he won't even know I'm there. Tell me Colonel, can any of your team do that? Can _you_? You need me Colonel, even if you don't know it yet."

"All right, all right," I said, holding my hands up in surrender. "You've got your shot. But you'd better be as good as you say you are. You're going to have to do a lot of catching up and I don't have time to baby you." I turned to Captain Picard, "Captain, if you please."

"Yes, quite. Computer, Transfer Lieutenant Olorina Tan to command of Colonel Johnson T. Garren, S.F.M.C., effective immediately. Authorization: Picard, alpha one one seven"

"Authorization verified. Transfer complete. Lieutenant Olorina Tan now under command of Colonel Johnson T. Garren, Starfleet Marine Corps."

"Thank-you, Captain. Computer, set S.P.E.D.A.R. security level two for Lieutenant Olorina Tan. Code clearance: Garren, Omega two seven five."

"Code clearance verified," the computer responded. "Lieutenant Olorina Tan now has S.P.E.D.A.R. security level two."

"All right Lieutenant, replicate yourself a set of armor and get down to holodeck two. I'll meet you there in sixty-five mics. You've got that long to set up those protocols you were talking about. Dismissed."

"Yes sir!" Tan flew out of the room at warp six with a smile five light years wide. I mentally slapped myself in the head for noticing that she looked as good going as she did coming. _Focus, Colonel, keep thinking like that and you and your whole team could end up dead!_ I turned to Captain Picard.

"Now Captain, if you don't mind I've been training on the holodeck since oh-seven-hundred. I'm Tired, sweaty, and hungry. I'd like to go to my quarters to get a shower and something to eat before I have to debrief my men and go back to the holodeck to start Lt. Tan's training."

"Of course," he replied. "I understand completely. Dismissed."


	4. Chapter 3: Introductions

_**Chapter 3. **_

_**Introductions**_

The door of my quarters never looked so good. I dragged my ass through it, thankful that I didn't have to open it. After twelve hours of hard training with my men, followed by half an hour of having my whole agenda screwed with, an hour of debriefing and four hours of training with Lieutenant Tan, I was pretty much in the bag. I doffed my armor, breaking my own rule by leaving it on the floor, hit the sonic shower with a vengeance and headed for my bed, fully intending to crash like a shuttle with a blown stabilizer.

The comm signal was supposed to be ergonomically designed to be as insistent as possible, to get your attention, while being unobtrusive enough to avoid annoying you. In the former, it excelled. In the latter, it failed dismally. At that exact moment, it was quite possibly the most annoying thing in the universe.

_"Colonel Garren, Please report to holodeck three."_ Captain Picard's voice held a note of urgency that brooked no delay.

"On my way." I said to the air. I had often wondered why there was never any signal from the computer to tell you when the comm channel was closed. I had supposed that it was keyed to different words and phrases of parting, such as 'On my way' or 'Out'. Oh well it didn't really matter anyway. I got out of bed and undressed so I could suit up.

"Computer, execute program Garren Alpha six, Command code: 'Suit up', default settings, no weapons." Holodeck 3 meant a simulation of some kind, so I would probably need a suit of S.P.E.D.A.R. armor. I didn't want to waste time so I used the new program that I had designed. The program 'Garren Alpha six' was actually a shortcut that allowed me easy access to all data pertaining to S.P.E.D.A.R. The command code 'Suit up' was a subroutine that I had designed to cut prep time by linking the replicator and the transporter together. Using the parameters that I had quoted and the nearest available public replicator (in this case, the one in my quarters) the computer began replicating the components of my armor. As the components were finished, the computer locked on to them with the transporter and beamed them directly onto my body. It only took about ten seconds to 'Suit up' this way and since my physical parameters were already embedded in the program, the modules fit perfectly. I was out the door and on my way to the turbolift twenty seconds after the comm signal had beeped its way onto my shit list.

I manually adjusted the focus on my R.L.P.D. (I really needed implants) and blinked my way into the turbolift control program. The turbolift reached the doors half a second before me and the doors whisked open as I stepped through.

"Holodeck Three," I said. The computer chirped, the doors closed and the turbolift accelerated laterally.

Two sections over and six decks above, the doors opened on a short hallway ending in a "T" junction. Around the corner to the right, the pressure doors of holodeck three were closed tightly. My display autolinked with the lighted panel to the right of the door and showed an active program in memory, the same program my unit and I had been running earlier, but the program status was frozen. As I approached the door, I activated the controls with an eye blink and the hiss of equalizing air pressure announced the opening of the portal.

As I stepped onto the holodeck, Captain Picard was standing over someone. Crouched down beside them was Dr. Dyer, totally engrossed in waving a bone knitter over the person's leg and consulting his tricorder. Picard turned at my entrance and I saw that it was Lt. Tan lying on the ground. Dyer ignored me in favor of his patient, switching to a tissue knitter and waving it around the patient's head.

"What happened?" I asked as I walked over.

Dr. Dyer stood and helped Lt. Tan to her feet. Her eyes were downcast and she remained quiet. "Apparently a training accident," Picard replied, turning to Dr. Dyer. "Doctor."

"She had a broken leg which I have just healed and some minor contusions and abrasions. Her left leg will be stiff for a few days but other than that, she's fine," he said, standing to face me.

"Are you all right?" I asked, looking at Lt. Tan.

"Yes sir," she replied quietly.

I turned to Captain Picard. "Would you mind sir? I'd like to talk to Lt. Tan alone."

"Of course." he replied, again turning to the doctor. "Doctor, unless there's anything else..."

"No sir, she's fine," he said.

Picard nodded to me and they both turned and headed for the exit. As the doors closed behind them, I whirled on Tan. "Lieutenant, just exactly what the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

"Practicing sir," she said.

"I distinctly recall giving you a direct order to get some rest. Did you understand that order?" I demanded.

"Yes sir, I did, sir, but--"

"If you understood the order then why didn't you carry it out?"

She straightened her spine. "Sir, with all due respect, I need the practice, I have a lot of catching up to do."

"I'll be the judge of that," I snapped. I softened my tone just slightly. "I know you need the practice, but making mistakes because you're too tired to concentrate will get you killed, not better. When you gain more experience, you'll be able to carry out your duties with less rest, but you're still training. Physically, you're in excellent condition but learning to use the S.P.E.D.A.R. system is as much mental as it is physical. And mental exhaustion causes more mistakes than physical exhaustion. For right now take advantage of all the rest you can get. You're going to need it because we're going to work that stiffness right out of you. How did you break your leg anyway? Your force field should have prevented that."

"I deactivated it, sir," she said.

"Deactivated it?" I asked. "What the hell for? The whole point of this training is to learn to use the equipment."

"I know sir, I was just trying to figure out how little of the equipment I could use and still perform to acceptable standards."

"You still haven't answered my first question. How did you break your leg?"

She looked down for a moment and then brought herself to attention. "I had finished phase two of the mission. I had gathered all the recon data and was heading back to the rendezvous point to get airborne --"

"You completed phase two alone?" I asked.

"Yes, sir."

That impressed me. My men had nearly blown the whole mission and she had pulled it off seemingly without a hitch. At least until she broke her leg, that is. I kept my face neutral and nodded for her to continue.

"Actually, sir, I thought it would be a lot harder. Anyway, I deactivated my force field to keep their sensors from locking on to me." At this point, she looked down again and her voice lowered. "I . . . tripped on a root . . ."

I almost smiled. However, I held it together and managed to keep my face neutral. "Didn't your T.R. protocols kick in and warn you about it?" I asked.

"No, sir. The computer assessed my skill level as too high to assign the root a priority value above the threshold. It thought I was too good to trip over a root; that I would see it and step over it. But I wasn't looking; I was checking how far it was to the rendezvous point."

"You were paying more attention to your displays than your surroundings. You're using your armor as if you're piloting a ship. Controls, displays, readouts. You don't 'control' it or 'fly' it. You make it a _part _of you, and to do that you have to constantly tweak the system. Tailor every part of it to your own preferences. Make minor changes that make it easier for you to use the tools. Establish 'macros' -- even tiny ones -- that group commands or procedures together. The most valuable commodity on a battlefield is information; your system gives you plenty of that. The second most valuable commodity is time. If you can save yourself even one second in combat, it might make the difference between whether you go home in a shuttle or a body bag. Now, your system will give you as much information as it has. But it can give you too much or give it to you in a way that is confusing or distracting. Sorting it all out takes too much time to use that information. All this has to be set up before you go into combat. Look, you have a voice interface; use it. I know it sounds strange, but talk to your computer. Tell it what you want. That way it can give you what you need instead of guessing what you want. Like that root, for example, In default mode, the system will only tell you about a threat or automatically do something about it if the threat is immediately lethal. Threat Recognition Protocols have to be individually refined the same as everything else in the system, that's why you have to practice with it in simulations."

I took a deep breath and blew it out. I was beat. "OK, the lesson's over for today; get some rest. That's an order."

"Yes sir," she said and turned toward the exit.

"Oh, and one more thing Lieutenant." I said.

She stopped and turned to face me and stood to attention. Her expression said that she knew what was coming. "Yes sir?"

I hardened my tone again. "The next time you disobey my orders, I will bust you so far down that you'll have to salute _cadets_. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir." She said.

"My unit works because it is a team Lieutenant. We depend on each other for our lives. I expect the members of my team to show initiative and motivation and to freely give their input but after I make my decision and give an order, it is not open for debate or interpretation. Are you reading me Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir. Five by five, sir."

"Reveille is at oh-five-hundred. You're dismissed."

"Yes sir."

She turned and walked off the holodeck.

"Computer," I said, "end program."

The trees shimmered and faded into nothingness and I left the holodeck, headed for my quarters. _My_ reveille was at oh-_four_-hundred.

--

_Beep "The time is oh-four-twenty-seven hours."_

"All right, all right, I'm up," I snarled, sluggishly crawling out of bed. I had only gotten four hours' sleep and that was the third time the computer had called me. I wasn't in a good mood. I knew I had a long day ahead of me and I wasn't looking forward to it. I had a meeting with Picard at the ungodly hour of oh-five hundred, I had to introduce Lieutenant Tan to the unit, we had a mission briefing concerning Dr. Monk at oh-six hundred, and more training for the rest of the day with simulations that -- if I got my way with Picard this morning -- were going to be even harder than all those that we had trained in before. The only bright side to today was that we would arrive at Starbase 51 at fifteen hundred hours, where we would be assigned one of the new _Inquisitor _class ships to carry out our mission. I lumbered out of the sonic shower with only nineteen minutes before I had to be in the Captain's office and only forty-nine minutes before the mission briefing began.

"Computer, coffee, hot, double cream. Two fried egg and bacon sandwiches and a banana." I demanded stepping up to the replicator.

_"That selection exceeds your recommended daily intake of fat by twelve point six grams,"_ the computer responded.

"Okay, put milk in the coffee instead of cream," I growled. "I'm going to work it all off in the holodeck anyway, now give me the food I ordered."

I swear the computer's chirp sounded positively disdainful but my breakfast shimmered into place in the alcove, exactly as I had ordered it. I took it to the table and devoured it in three minutes flat, including a second cup of coffee.

When I had finished, I put on a standard Starfleet Marine Corps uniform, standard jungle camouflage fatigues with black shoulders and black combat boots, and four vertical silver slashes for the neck insignia of a Marine Corps Colonel. This insignia had bothered some Starfleet Captains because they felt that it too closely resembled their own neck insignia and they felt it necessary to maintain superiority aboard their ships. Because of this Starfleet had decided that, although technically a Marine Corps Colonel was equal in rank to a Starfleet Captain, while aboard ship, the Captain outranked everyone except a General or an Admiral, and even they had to have a very good reason to pull rank. I therefore deferred to Captain Picard and called him 'Sir'.

I tossed the dishes into the recycler and ordered another cup of coffee in a cup with a lid so I could drink it on the fly. I outfitted myself with an R.L.P.D., (I _really_ needed implants) with a sensor band, a force field and an arm mounted P.A.D.D. I grabbed my coffee and headed for the Captain's office.

I used the time the trip took to run diagnostics on my systems, but as the turbolift came to a halt, the doors did not immediately open. I wondered why until I heard Captain Picard's voice say "Come" and the doors opened directly into the Captain's office. I hadn't known that he had his own private turbolift access in his office.

"Ah, good morning Colonel. Welcome to the ready room." he gestured me to a seat.

"Oh yes," I said. "You call it a 'ready room'. I just have an office." I sat down across the desk from him in a chair that was neither too hard nor too soft.

"Yes," he smiled. "Naval traditions are hard to break. Coffee?" He asked, rising and going to the replicator.

"Already have some, thank-you," I said, raising my cup.

"Of course." he smiled and turned to the control panel. "Tea, Earl Grey, Hot," he said. The tea shimmered, steaming, into existence in the alcove of the replicator. Picard brought the cup back to his desk and seated himself.

He paused, taking a sip of his tea and set the cup and saucer on the desk, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him and turning his chair slightly to the right. "Now, Colonel, I understand you have a problem with the simulations you've been running."

Straight to the point. Excellent, that was just what I wanted. "As a matter of fact Captain, I do. If your holodeck programmers can't come up with something more realistic than the crap we went through yesterday then we're all wasting our time here. How can you expect my team to train for life and death situations when you're putting them up against enemies that don't even shield their force field generators? Any cadet could have breached that compound with nothing more than a stick and harsh language! And that's not all either. The wooded area surrounding the compound was only ten meters from the fence! I could have hidden an army in there and they wouldn't even have known we were there until we were standing on their heads! And only sending two skimmers after us? Come _on _Captain, this is supposed to be realistic. It didn't fool me, I know it didn't fool Perak and I'm pretty sure that it didn't fool Q'iang either. Even Lt. Tan mentioned it to me when I spoke with her last night. "

Picard scowled. "Alright Colonel, you've made your point. I'll have my people reprogram the holodecks to be more difficult, will that suffice?"

"Actually Captain, it won't. Number one, I want the simulations to be intuitive. I want them to learn from us and develop accordingly. Eventually they should know us better than we know ourselves. The programs should progressively become more and more difficult until it's not possible to defeat them."

"Mmm… and second?"

I sighed. I knew the second thing was going to be hard to attain. "I want your permission to disengage the safety protocols."

Picard glowered. "Not possible. The safety protocols are there to protect --"

"Captain," I interrupted "With all due respect, protecting my team is not the number one priority here, training them is. You set that parameter yourself with this mission. I know that sounds callous but I _have_ to know that they can handle themselves when the danger is real. I thought I could achieve that by tricking them into thinking the simulations were real but they won't fall for that again. Not only that, but my credibility with them will drop accordingly, now that they know I lied to them. The only way to do it now, short of an actual mission, is to let them train with the safeties off. I will, of course, assume full responsibility."

He straightened his chair, placed his hands firmly on either side of his cup and leaned forward. "Responsibility is not the issue here. And at the risk of sounding callous myself, I need _live_ personnel to _send _on this mission," he replied.

"Well put it this way, Captain, if the men you send on this mission aren't trained properly, they're not going to last very long into it. I have to have those safeties off to do that, and, with all due respect, sir, _I _need live personnel to _return_ from this mission."

He paused and sighed heavily. "All right," he said, "I will do this; I will allow you to increase the limitations of the safety protocols until they are just barely below tolerance. But know this, I will _not_ deliberately endanger the lives of those under my command for a training exercise, no matter how important the mission. And remember, at that level, any wounds that are not immediately life-threatening will--be--_real_. Members of your team could still die from secondary incidents anyway and if that happens then believe me, Colonel, I _will_ hold you accountable. Their safety is now in your hands. That is as far as I am prepared to go in this matter."

I sighed, knowing that I had already gotten more than I had expected. I was expecting him to turn me down flat. Disengaging the holodeck safeties is a serious breach of protocol and it was an example of how serious this situation was that he was even willing to consider it, let alone actually do it. "That will have to do then, Captain. I'm certain that the extended limitations will be helpful in our training. Remember, I'm not asking my team to take any risks that I'm not willing to take myself. I'll be right there with them. Experiencing the same dangers as they are."

"I did take that into account when I made my decision. In fact it's the only reason I went as far as I did," he said.

"Now, on a more positive note. We will be arriving at Starbase fifty-one ahead of schedule, our E.T.A. is one hour." he paused and smiled slightly, "Your ship is ready Colonel. Final preparations on the _Angeles_ were completed last night. Apparently, Commander Kretchen has had crews working 'round the clock -- three shifts -- to complete the work ahead of schedule. She's ready for her maiden voyage. Are you ready to take command?"

I almost jumped out of my chair. I had expected the final prep to take at least another three days. I managed to contain myself, however, and simply said, "Yes sir, I believe I am. Um, just a moment, if you would Captain?" He nodded and gestured me to continue. "Computer, personal reminder. Send Commander Kretchen a bottle of Bavalian scotch." Picard chuckled. I turned back to him. "I owe him one for that. Captain, your hospitality has been greatly appreciated, but with all due respect, I'd like to get the hell off your ship and onto mine. Just between you and me, I miss being in charge."

Picard chuckled again. "I understand completely. And just between you and me, Colonel, I'm not really comfortable anywhere but on the bridge of my ship either. After he has completed some Ship's business, Commodore Data will meet you on the Starbase outside hangar bay eighteen at Eleven hundred hours. You'll have the next two weeks to familiarize yourself with the ship and its systems. I understand the _Inquisitor_ class ships have some . . . unique capabilities."

I smiled, he knew as well as I did that I had been 'familiarizing' myself with the ship and its systems since I found out that it was going to be assigned to us. "Yes sir, they do. I'm looking forward to our shakedown cruise. With your permission, sir, I'd like to get my team used to the ship and its 'unique capabilities' as soon as possible. I think it would be beneficial for me and the team to take her out for a couple of days and really get to know her. You know as well as I do that all the technical readouts and schematics in the world can't properly prepare you for the real thing. Some hands-on experience could make the difference between life and death. That would also give your programmers time to reprogram the holodecks with something more suitable to our needs."

"That sounds reasonable. If you like, you can also run a series of simulated attacks on the Enterprise."

"Thank you, Captain." I said. "We'll do that as soon as we get back but for now, sir, with your permission, I have some preparations to make before our maiden voyage."

"Very well," he replied, standing and holding out his hand. I rose and shook it. "Good luck, Colonel. We'll see you in two days. Dismissed."

I turned and headed for the turbolift; the doors opened immediately and swished shut behind me. "Deck eleven," I said. The lift turned ninety degrees left, then started down and I started replanning my day. My schedule, as usual, it seemed lately, was now completely useless. I now needed to plan a series of shipboard training exercises. I had hoped that I would be able to accomplish more with the S.P.E.D.A.R. system before progressing on to the starship training because they already had some previous training aboard starships. They needed the extra time on the ground to remind them that they were down and dirty grunts most of the time and fancy-ass starship pilots very little. We're the Marine Corps, not Starfleet. We do most of our fighting face-to-face, not ship-to-ship. We train for combat first. They train for combat last. That's what makes us better at it than them. And if we're going to be the best at it then we had damn well better train for it!

The turbolift doors hissed open and I stopped myself just as I was stepping out into the corridor. "Computer, what time is it?" I asked into the air.

_"The time is oh five sixteen hours."_

"Are all the members of my team awake?"

_"Affirmative."_

"Is the Observation Lounge occupied?"

_"Negative."_

I stepped back into the turbolift. "Deck one, Observation Lounge." The doors slid shut and the lift began to ascend. "Garren to Alpha squad. Report to Observation Lounge in ten mics."

As the computer had predicted, the observation lounge was deserted. Perak was there thirty seconds after me and the rest of the team arrived shortly thereafter chatting and joking and jostling each other. Donaldson and Simmons were sparring with each other. Tan was last and still favoring her left leg but well in advance of the ten mic time limit. Luckily for her we wouldn't be training on the holodeck today after all. The others looked at her questioningly, trying to figure out who she was and what she was doing here. I called the meeting to order.

"All right, people. Settle down and listen up! Donaldson! Simmons! Secure that shit and have a seat, gentlemen. Lieutenant, sit here please." I gestured Lt. Tan to a seat next to the one behind which I was standing and seated myself. "We have a new addition to our team. Alpha squad, this is Lieutenant Olorina Tan. Lt. Tan, my team." I gestured to each in turn. "This is Lieutenant Perak, my XO, Master Sergeant Leo Kowalski, Sergeant Q'iang, Corporal Mollen Alic, Corporal Joel Simmons, Private Vorn and Private Shane Donaldson.

Gentlemen, Lt. Tan's rank as a lieutenant is a Starfleet rank. It is equivalent to the Marine Corps rank of Captain. That means she outranks all of you. However, that rank does not carry directly over to our branch of the service. Therefore, her rank will be 'Lieutenant, Senior Grade, Starfleet Marine Corps'. That means she still outranks all of you except Perak, by virtue of the fact that he has held his rank longer and that he is executive officer. I expect you all to show proper respect for that rank, even if she is new. We don't have time for you all to 'get adjusted' to her, so let's get this right the first time.

"Now, to business. Training exercises for today are suspended." A chorus of cheers and hoots went around the table. I decided to let it pass on its own.

"How come, Colonel?" Kowalski asked, after their mirth had died down.

"I received news, in my meeting with Captain Picard this morning, that our new ship will be ready for launch ahead of schedule." Another chorus of cheers. "We arrive at Starbase fifty-one in less than an hour. I'm giving you all liberty until eleven hundred hours. At that time, you will report to hangar bay eighteen for orientation with Commodore Data. When orientation is complete, we will be taking her out for a two day shakedown cruise." Cheers and hoots went a third round. I noticed the length of the cheers was increasing with each round so I decided not to let it go this time. "All right, people, settle down and serious up! We're on a schedule here. What are you people, _new_? You know the drill. Snap to it!" Everyone settled down serioused up. These were a tight knit group already. They needed some leeway so they wouldn't become afraid to speak out but sometimes you have to yank the chain to remind 'em who's boss.

"Sir," Perak asked. "May I ask where we are going?"

"Nowhere in particular, Mr. Perak. It's just a shakedown; we will have no clear destination. But don't all of you think that just because we're not going to be on the holodeck that we're on a vacation. We will be running drills and mock engagements the whole time. You will be expected to become proficient with all the ship's systems and maybe even learn a little."

"Two days?" Donaldson protested. "Sir, how are we supposed to learn a whole ship in two days?"

"I've been looking over the specs." I replied. "This particular ship is pretty unusual. It's not that big and it's supposed to have some kind of smart computer that will teach us as we go. Besides, you've all had Starfleet Academy training. I'm assuming they didn't let you graduate without knowing how to fly a ship?"

"No, sir. They didn't." Donaldson said.

"Very well, then I will expect you all on the firing line at eleven hundred." I raised my voice and looked around. "Comprendé?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The group chorused in unison.

"You're all dismissed." As they all filed out of the room, I gathered my thoughts. _Could this work?_ I wasn't so sure. The odds were definitely against us. The people that Monk hired to work for him would not be like the ones we had encountered on the holodeck yesterday. They would be mercenaries; people who were used to combat--and killing. My whole unit, except for Perak and now Tan was just a bunch of kids. Good kids, but kids. They had gone straight from the Academy to Boot camp and from there right to me. Kowalski and Q'iang only had their sergeant's stripes by virtue of the fact that I needed non-coms and they had shown the best leadership qualities. None of them had any experience in the field. This was supposed to be a nice cushy gig for them. Just test the armor and help to perfect it. They weren't supposed to have to go into full-scale combat. But now they all were. And I had to make damn sure that they all came home alive. I wasn't so sure I could. . .


	5. Chapter 4: Angeles

_**Chapter 4.**_

**_Angeles_**

As I approached the rest of the unit outside hangar bay eighteen I heard my unit talking amongst themselves.

"Try the door again." Simmons said.

Perak's voice was as calm as ever. "It did not open the last three times you tried it, Corporal. The computer has also stated that it will not open until eleven hundred hours and then only with an authorized voiceprint. It is not logical to assume that it will open now when those conditions have not been met."

"Just checking," Simmons replied, stepping up and trying the door again anyway. Nothing happened -- of course. Then he noticed me and came to attention. "Officer on deck!" he shouted. The group all came to attention.

"As you were," I said. They all relaxed (except Perak, I didn't think he _ever_ relaxed).

"Computer, what time is it?" Mollen asked.

"_The time is eleven hundred hours_."

The doors of the turbolift just down the corridor opened and Commodore Data strode toward us.

"Finally." Donaldson said under his breath.

"Good morning everyone," Data said as he reached the group. "I trust I haven't kept you waiting?" He glanced just a fraction longer at Donaldson than anyone else. I was positive that he was hacking on us, but I couldn't be sure. The timing of the turbolift's arrival couldn't have been more perfect, but as Data is so fond of saying, his timing is digital. We parted and Data stepped between us. He paused at the threshold of the launch bay, and with a very small flourish touched the door control and spoke. "Computer, access to hangar bay eighteen, authorization: Data, Omicron seven one seven."

"_Data, Omicron seven one seven recognized, access granted_."

The oversized pressure doors split apart with the whine of powerful motors, creating an opening some four meters wide and three high. He gestured inside the launch bay, smiled, and pronounced, "Gentlemen, Lieutenant, the _U.S.S. Angeles._"

She looked sleek and deadly, if a bit small, surrounded by the superstructure of the docking clamps, scaffolds and fuel lines. I had expected the usual battleship gray hull plating but the Angeles' hull was the deepest black I had ever seen. She was smooth and completely devoid of any windows or irregular surfaces to mar her lines. It seemed to absorb the light cast on it by the overhead units. It was like looking into space itself, but without the stars. Her lines were all gracefully curved with no angles showing anywhere throughout her structure. Her name was like a play on words because she truly was angle-less. Generally delta shaped, she bulged into domes above and below the centerline toward the bow, bulges that narrowed and extruded aft on her dorsal and ventral surfaces like smooth, dual spinal columns. A curved section of the lower hull swung down to form a low ramp on the starboard side.

We all stood and stared briefly before Kowalski broke the spell. "It looks like a big, black shuttle." he chuckled.

"I assure you, Corporal, it's far superior to a shuttle." Data replied as we all headed toward the ship. "The _Inquisitor_ class Tactical Troop Transport can hold its own against a ship ten times its size. It's as maneuverable as a shuttle and as fast as a starship. Four decks -- and that's all you'll need, with a crew of nine -- and a cruising speed of warp nine standard. However, new hull and warp field geometry allow it to open and safely traverse Quantum Slip-Stream corridors making its actual top speed much greater."

"Quantum Slip-Stream drive?!" Kowalski exclaimed. "We could outrun the Borg!"

Data smiled, "Step inside your starship folks, I'll take some time to show you around." He preceded us up the ramp and on into the ship. We all followed as he continued his tour. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I already knew most of what he was telling us, but for the rest of the team this was the first time they knew more than that they were getting a ship.

"It's interesting that you mentioned the Borg, Master Sergeant, because it was really our ongoing -- if random -- hostilities with the Borg, The Dominion and other hostile species which precipitated the design of this particular class of ship. Ground forces are becoming more necessary to hold worlds secured from space. That is why the Federation re-initiated the Marine Corps branch of Starfleet. The _Angeles'_ primary mission is insertion and retrieval of Marine Corps units. Its secondary mission is as a Tactical-Intercept Fighter." We were now in the airlock chamber. We went through a set of doors to the right, which led us to a zero gee ladder access that extended the entire draft of the ship. Obviously, there were no turbolifts on a ship this small. "Decks One and Four are for weapons and sensor arrays. Deck Four also, obviously, contains the airlock. Deck Two is the Bridge and crew quarters. Captain and First Officer get private quarters forward of the bridge, everybody else bunks together aft. Deck Three is Sick Bay, Engineering and Computer core.

"Excuse me Commodore," Tan interrupted. "Where is the transporter room?"

"The transporter system is a one hundred percent site-to-site, high-speed multiporter; there is no transporter room or area. With a single voice command, it can autonomously lock on to all nine crewmembers and whatever cargo or supplies they might need and simultaneously beam each to a different set of coordinates on a planet's surface, if necessary. Complete transport time, including phase re-integration at the target site, is less than one point nine three seconds. If a constant lock is maintained, individual retrieval time from a planet's surface can be less than one point two four seconds. And if a portable pattern enhancer is also used, retrieval time can be as fast as point seven nine seconds. Retrieval times increase slightly with each additional person or item of equipment transported."

Kowalski whistled. "No shit?" He asked.

"No shit, Mr. Kowalski." Data replied, deadpan.

Perak spoke up. "The ship's sensor arrays must be very efficient to be able to lock on to an individual so quickly."

"The _Angeles_ has several active and passive, multi-spectral sensor arrays which can intensively scan for a wide variety of data. Breakdown and analysis of the data are performed automatically through the main computer. Highly efficient for I&R missions."

"What about its tactical abilities?" Tan asked.

Data seemed almost proud. "For Tactical Intercept missions, it holds its own quite nicely as well. Regenerative, multiphasic shielding with metaphasic capability, combined with semi-ablative armor plating composed of a carbon-tritanium-ceramic, laminated composite, give you the defensive capability to hang in a firefight longer. The composite armor can be deployed or retracted as needed and has more than seventy five times the heat dissipation rate of standard tritanium or duranium hull plating. Tests have shown the shields to be able to withstand sustained phaser strikes of ten seconds with minimal loss of power. The polyalloy hull material also absorbs active sensor scans and the hull geometry has the added benefit of scattering and redirecting scanning beams. Hull integrity is reinforced with trans-spectral force fields.

"Six hyperpulse phaser emplacements are set in strips completely recessed into the hull. Power is routed through the firing coils from the warp drive in continuous, high-energy pulses. Depleted deuterium particles from the warp reaction chamber are also injected directly into the rectifier and discharged with the pulses, giving the phaser blast a physical characteristic as well as an energy one. Once enemy shields are down a single shot with the depleted deuterium-enhanced beam can physically cut through several decks and penetrate deep into the superstructure of an enemy ship.

"Four torpedo launch tubes -- two fore and two aft -- are configured to launch the new Mark Fourteen trans-phasic torpedoes. The Mark Fourteens have multiple 'smart' warheads, which can independently track five targets simultaneously. Using these torpedoes, twenty ships -- or twenty places on one ship -- can be targeted in a single volley. A second volley can be automatically loaded, armed, locked and launched within four seconds of the first volley and another, four seconds after that. The trans-phasic warheads are powerful enough that, depending on impact points, four to five Borg cubes can be destroyed with a single torpedo. Quite obviously, a significant advancement over previous torpedo designs.

"The _Angeles_ also has one more defensive system. Recent accords made with the Romulans as a result of the war with the Dominion, have now made it legal for the Federation to pursue cloaking technology. The latest design has been incorporated into the _Angeles_."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Nobody told me about any cloaking device!"

"I thought that would surprise you sir," Data said. "The cloak was incorporated into the ship after the initial design phase. The specifications you received did not include it." (So much for sparing Data's feelings. He already knew I knew.)

"The _U.S.S. Angeles_ is equipped with a brand new stealth system, a type four _phased_ cloak. When in full phase mode, the vessel can translate up to one hundred and eighty degrees out of phase with our continuum and so does not interact physically with normal matter and energy. This not only makes the vessel undetectable but virtually impervious to harm by normal means. Its only drawback is that you must re-phase and de-cloak before you can fire the weapons, transport, or send subspace signals. When completely phased only passive sensor systems will function. Any active scan is out of phase with normal matter and so does not interact with it enough to get a coherent reading.

Finally, all tactical systems have built-in adaptive algorithms to continuously modulate their parameters. This ship, gentlemen, is designed to get you in, help you complete your mission and get you out alive. Any questions, so far?"

"Uh, ya, one." Kowalski said.

"Go ahead," Data said.

"How are ya supposed to power all that stuff with engines that, from here, look like they couldn't push a runabout?"

"Power for the ship comes from a multi-impeller warp field generator. It uses a two stage intermix regulator. Enriched anti-deuterium particles are injected into the second stage. This effects a reaction with the resultant energy from the first stage in a high state of flux, allowing a stable intermix formula at a ratio of two to one instead of one to one; significantly increasing engine output."

"But how do you contain so much power without rupturing the core?"

"Because this engine uses a _gravitic_ containment field instead of a magnetic one."

"_Gravitic_!? Wow! I mean, I've read about the new gravitic containment fields in the technical journals but I thought we were years away from a working model."

"Actually, Master Sergeant, the researchers working on the problem were quite far from completing their task when I joined them. I have always felt that magnetic containment was too unstable to safely contain a high-energy reaction and I have done considerable research in the field. The gravitic containment field is approximately one hundred times stronger and far more stable than the standard magnetic field. Because the gravitic field coils are so much smaller than the magnetic coils, the containment field generator is smaller and lighter, with a much lower power drain. The gravitic containment field has another advantage over magnetic fields. Magnetic field coils can become depolarized, which causes the magnetic constrictors to lock. This, of course, results in a core breach. The gravitic containment field is monopolar, and therefore cannot become depolarized, making the whole warp drive system safer. The warp field coils are also much smaller. Mr. Kowalski, you noticed that the engine nacelles seemed to be quite small, that is why.

"You may have noticed, as well, that the warp nacelles are laid out inboard along the edges of the ship instead of mounted outboard on pylons. You may also have noticed that they are not parallel to each other, but angle in toward the bow of the ship. This is the reason that previous attempts to use the Quantum Slip-Stream drive were, shall we say, less than successful. The parallel nacelles formed a symmetrical warp field that literally ripped itself apart from the drag on the sides of the Slipstream corridor. The angled nacelles on the _Angeles_ allow the oblique warp field configuration necessary for Slipstream flight. "

Something suddenly occurred to me. "I have a question." I said.

"Yes Colonel?" Data responded.

"Isn't the bridge usually on deck one?"

Data smiled. "Actually, sir, it is in part because of you that it isn't."

"Because of me? How is that possible?"

Data fairly _whipped_ out a P.A.D.D. and punched a command into it. "This is part of a recording of a speech you gave two years ago at Starfleet Academy. I believe the subject was _'Protect Yourself: Because Starfleet Won't_.' "He tapped the P.A.D.D. and a sound recording played.

"I don't be_lieve_ the way Starfleet designs your ships! Okay, what is _the_ single most important place on a starship? _The bridge!_ Where do these people put the bridge on _every _ship they build? On the _outside_ of your ship! Right in the center of the primary hull. Okay, the bridge is round, the primary hull is round. _It's a bull's-eye!_ These people put your bridge right in the middle of a target that's so obvious that a _chess_ computer could lock on to it. Once the shields are down your entire bridge crew are sitting ducks! A single phaser hit would simultaneously take out the first and probably second officer, the science officer, tactical officer, helmsman, operations manager, possibly the chief engineer, and, oh ya, _the Captain of the ship!_ The bridge of your ship should be _inside_ it, in the geometric _center_ of it, with as much structure and armor around it as possible. Let's just put it this way: The safer the bridge crew is, the safer the entire ship is. Does that not make sense to you folks?" A chorus of cheers and applause briefly peeled and then it was silenced at a keystroke from Data.

Data's face turned serious for a moment. "Starfleet took you seriously, Colonel. Your speech made the rounds of all the top brass in Starfleet. You caused quite a stir, sir."

It was my turn to smile. "Well it wasn't supposed to do that, although, in retrospect, I guess it helped them to take my S.P.E.D.A.R. designs more seriously. It was just supposed to be a motivational speech to get the students to be more independent and self-reliant. To make them understand the limitations of their technology and not to rely on it too much and make them use their minds as well as their tools. It wasn't supposed to cause a revolution."

"Well, sir, it made Starfleet re-evaluate its design parameters for all new vessels. New priorities were established and new standards were set. The _U.S.S. Angeles_ is the result. Every design feature and stress point on the ship has been upgraded and passed testing in simulation through one hundred billion repetitions.

"Even the computer systems have been upgraded. The on-board computer is a highly advanced Artificial Intelligence Matrix. However, it is not just an 'on-board computer'; its matrix was designed solely for this ship and is completely integrated into every part of it. Even in its developmental stages, it was given a simulated ship to control. As far as it is concerned, it _is_ the ship. For example, where we use our legs and walk, it uses its engines and flies. Where we use our eyes to see, it uses its sensors to scan. We use fists and feet for combat; it has phasers and photon torpedoes. The hull is its body and the computer core is its brain. Similar matrices have not yet been incorporated into any other vessel – including the prototype _U.S.S. Inquisitor, _which has a standard computer. It is advanced enough that its designers have it up for review to be designated an artificial life form like myself."

"Wait a minute," Simmons interrupted. "You're saying it's as smart as you?"

"In terms of sheer computational speed, storage capacity and access and retrieval time, its abilities equal and, in some areas, even exceed my own. Although, being an isolinear, optronic matrix and not a positronic one, it takes up considerably more space than I do." Data reached up with a finger and tapped his head, smiling. We all chuckled and Data continued.

"In terms of personality, it has not yet achieved my stage of development although it has made some interesting personal choices. For example, it has designated itself as female and prefers to be addressed as '_Angeles_', rather than 'Computer'. Apparently, it has decided that it likes being a ship and doesn't want to be anything else. It has stated that in the event that it is designated an artificial life form, it volunteers itself to serve as a member of Starfleet and abide by Starfleet regulations. It has even volunteered to take the oath, if Starfleet requires it. It has reached relative 'adulthood' but lacks experience and, as yet, has shown few emotional responses, although its programming does include all of them. It is programmed to learn and adapt and since it possesses such a high computational speed it learns and adapts quickly.

"It will be very easy for you to become comfortable with the controls because while you spend time learning the computer, _it_ will also learn _you_. Eventually, it will know you so well that it will cease to work _for_ you and begin to work _with_ you. It will learn to anticipate your needs so that, for example, when you activate a console or sit down at a station the interfaces automatically configure themselves to your preferences and bring up controls and readouts that are relevant to the current situation."

Again, Simmons broke in. "How can it bring up the controls you need before you ask for them?"

Data smiled. "It is very intelligent, it listens and watches."

"All the time?" Simmons asked.

"Yes," Data said.

"Everywhere?"

"The whole ship. It learns the crew by listening to them and watching them. There are audio and visual pickups throughout the ship."

"Even in the shower?" Tan asked.

Data smiled again. "It is programmed for modesty, Lieutenant. And the devices can be deactivated at any time except during an emergency. I sincerely hope you would not be taking a shower during an emergency." Everybody laughed at that and Data began pulling himself up the grav shaft.

We all followed him. As we reached deck three, I saw that we were in a rather large, semi-circular room. Forward of the shaft was a bulkhead with one door on which was a placard reading 'Sick Bay'. Banks of isolinear modules and optronic and bio-neural circuitry surrounded us. Dead center, aft was another door. Data proceeded aft, speaking as he went.

"This is the main computer core -- the 'brain' of the ship. It is," he said, looking at me, "in an area of the ship which is as well protected from damage as the bridge, which is directly above us; as near as is possible to the geometric center of the vessel. As with the bridge, it is so well shielded and protected that in order to damage it directly, such as by weapons fire, the ship itself would have to be virtually destroyed." He proceeded through the aft door.

We entered an oblong compartment that appeared to extend about half the length of the ship. At the back of the room was the most impossibly small warp core I had ever seen. It was no more than four meters high and about one meter wide, extending into vaulted alcoves above and below. The dilithium intermix chamber was only about one and a half meters in diameter and two, half meter wide, plasma conduits extended horizontally from each side, disappearing into the walls. Energy pulsed in waves from the top and bottom of the core into the dilithium chamber and coursed out through the plasma conduits. Gravimetric field coils embraced the warp chambers and plasma conduits at equal intervals, creating light and dark bands along their lengths.

Data led us over to a large flat console, about one meter high, one meter wide and two long, halfway between the doors and the warp core. Holographic control interfaces floated mid-air around the outer edge of its flat, black surface and a holographic projection of the ship hovered above it.

"This display is the most recent upgrade in diagnostic tools. It is a real-time, isomorphic projection of the ship's current condition. Any change in its condition is duplicated immediately here. This allows the engineer to make a visual assessment of any damage so problems can be diagnosed more quickly. It can be rotated in three dimensions, peeled like an onion or zoomed in and out at any point. In short, any part of the ship can be viewed from any angle at any time. Even what's going on inside the warp core. All in real time."

On either side of the room a little further on were engineering stations with amalgamated hard interfaces and holographic displays. Two command consoles were mounted sixty degrees apart on a semi-circular rail that surrounded the core and terminated at the rear bulkhead. Kowalski headed for the diagnostic display and started activating diagnostics and status monitors.

_"Sergeant Kowalski, the diagnostics are not necessary. All of my systems are functioning at one hundred percent efficiency."_ I didn't realize at first that it was the computer speaking (Pardon me, the _ship_ speaking). The voice was definitely feminine, light but not in a vapid way. It sounded somehow more confident and self-assured than an ordinary computer. Like it wasn't just reciting data but actually understood what it was talking about. The sensation was almost eerie. It would take some getting used to. Kowalski jumped at the sound of the ship speaking. As surprised as I was that the ship would proffer information that was not requested. Starfleet computers were notorious for not volunteering information.

"Whoa!" Kowalski said, turning to Data. "Does it always do that?"

"Quite a bit actually," Data answered. "You get used to it. Thank you, _Angeles_."

_"You're welcome, Commodore Data."_

"Now, if you'll all follow me…" Data said, heading for the door. We accompanied him out of Engineering and back to the Computer Core. He began ascending the grav ladder again and we all followed him up. We found ourselves at the aft section of the Bridge, facing forward. Behind us was a door that I assumed lead to crew quarters.

"Finally," he said, with a sweeping gesture of his hand, "the Bridge."

As Data continued his exposition, I lagged behind the group and just looked around. The first thing that struck me was how small it was, it was generally circular, like all Starfleet bridges, but only about five meters in diameter. Instead of a view screen, the front half of the ceiling curved down to the floor in a dome shape forming a nearly perfect quarter-sphere. It was almost completely smooth and a uniform gray color. The command chair was, as usual, in the center of the circle. There were no rails or barriers anywhere. I went to it and sat down. Immediately to my left and right were command consoles and small holo-projectors extended inward from the arms of the chair. I surmised that, when activated, they would project displays in the air in front of me. To my left was the Tactical station and to my right was Ops. Above and behind me on the left and right of the grav ladder were the Science and Engineering stations. Directly in front of me, recessed into the floor was the Conn/Navigation station.

I briefly studied the command console on my right and activated a control. Instantly, the spherical viewscreen seemed to disappear, replaced by a view of the interior of hangar bay eighteen. The view was so accurately reproduced that it seemed that the ceiling and front wall of the bridge had been completely cut away, and I was sitting in the open air. Everybody stopped moving and stared around wondrously -- except, of course, Perak.

Perak, the quintessential Vulcan, appeared only marginally fascinated. "Impressive," he said in his usual monotone.

"Ah," said Data, "Colonel, I see you have found the viewscreen controls. And I agree with you Mr. Perak, it is quite impressive, isn't it?"

"It's aesthetic qualities aside," Perak responded, "I believe that it would be a definite asset in combat as well as navigation, particularly from the command and Conn positions. The spherical projection would give a marked advantage in tactical view, allowing a three dimensional basis on which to formulate strategic maneuvers and carry them out."

I looked slightly upwards and said, "Computer – I mean, _Angeles_, is the… are you ready for departure?" Damn, that was going to take some getting used to.

"_Yes, Colonel, I am fully fueled and stocked and ready for extended duty,"_ The ship responded.

"Very well, stations everyone," I said

Kowalski, Mollen and Simmons immediately headed below. Kowalski and Simmons to Engineering, Mollen to Sick Bay. Q'iang sat down at the Science station, Tan at the tactical station, Perak at Ops, Donaldson at the Engineering station and Vorn went and lowered himself into the Conn Station's recessed chair. Data moved forward to stand on my left. I mentally slapped myself for being pissed off that he was blocking my view of Lt. Tan. "Commodore, unless you are planning to accompany us?"

"No sir, as intriguing as your mission sounds, I believe my presence is still required aboard the Enterprise."

"Very well then, thank you very much for the tour. I hope to see you again when this is all over."

"You are quite welcome, sir, and good hunting"

"_Angeles_ lock onto Mr. Data and beam him back to the _Enterprise_."

"_Acknowledged, Colonel."_ Data smiled as he flickered and disappeared faster than any transporter I had ever seen.

"Mr. Perak," I said. "Contact Starbase Control and clear us for launch."

"Yes, sir. Starbase control, this is the _U.S.S. Angeles_. We are ready for departure."

"U.S.S. Angeles_, this is Starbase control. You are cleared for launch."_

"Confirmed, _Angeles_ out"

Well, it was time to see what this ship could do. In front of me, I could see the huge bay doors of the launch bay opening. "Mr. Vorn, Clear all moorings and lines. Release docking clamps. Bridge to engineering, Mr. Kowalski, do you think you could manage to figure out how to get those engines online?" I quipped.

"_Yes, sir, engines coming online now. Full impulse and warp power available. Quantum Slipstream drive is standing by,_" he replied, excitedly, he was obviously in his glory now.

"Very good, people, thrusters ahead. Mr. Vorn, take us out." The ship slid smoothly from the launch bay and into open space.

"We are clear, sir," Perak said.

"Thank you Mr. Perak. Mr. Vorn, set course, one two seven, mark four one. Take us to warp four."

"Affirmative, sssir. One two ssseven, mark four one."

The low hum of the engines built up quickly as the ship prepared for warp speed. The stars on the view screen seemed to stretch out as the parallax effect took place. Perak's voice was calm, "Sir, incoming message."

"On screen please," I said.

"Yessir." Perak replied. A large, yellow rectangle formed at the front of the screen and Captain Picard's lean face appeared.

"Colonel, I have just received word that the Telamon negotiations took less time than anticipated. The ambassador has left for Risa ahead of schedule."

"Great," I said. "Can anything else go wrong with this mission? What's his E.T.A. at Risa?"

"Approximately three days."

I sighed. "Very well, thank you for the update, Garren out."

The square with Picard in it vanished, replaced by the parallax lines of stars flying by at warp speed. "Mr. Vorn, lay in new course and speed to make Risa orbit in forty-eight hours.

"Yesss Sssir, courssse: two four two mark ssseven one, ssspeed: warp eight point four."

"Engage."

"Sssir, if I may?"

"Yes, Private?"

"If we ussse the quantum ssslipssstream drive, we could be there in jussst under an hour."

"I know Vorn, but it's not necessary. We'll still be there well ahead of the ambassador and our shakedown cruise was going to be two days anyway. We can use the time to our own advantage by running drills and combat simulations."

"Yesss sssir, engaging ssstandard warp enginesss."


End file.
